


Strong at the Broken Places

by qaffangyrl



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bisexual Steve Rogers, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gay Bucky Barnes, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2020-12-13 23:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 33,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21005675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qaffangyrl/pseuds/qaffangyrl
Summary: Six days after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. Bucky Barnes arrives at Avengers Tower to surrender. Can Steve and the rest of the team help Bucky rebuild his mind and his life?  And what will happen when Steve discovers that Tony has known Bucky's been alive all along?





	1. CH 1 Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> So in this post-Endgame existence we're all living in, I've been getting nostalgic for all the amazing fic that was created while fans awaited Civil War. I thought I'd take a little canon-divergent journey to see what I could come up with. Enjoy! Comments are my muse so your thoughts are appreciated!

Steve Rogers is still in the Intensive Care Unit when Bucky exploits a weakness in the perimeter of Avengers Tower. The ventilation ducts in the underground parking structure wouldn’t typically provide an opportunity for breaching an otherwise state-of-the-art security system. But nothing about Bucky’s skills, training or programming is typical. He can’t remember the last time he felt fear. But fact that he’s able to meet his first objective so easily, scares him.

He checks his watch. It's 06:45. His target should arrive at any moment. Three days of reconnaissance was all Bucky needed to survey, strategize and conduct a self-inventory to confirm readiness. He’d been able to repair his dislocated shoulder, tape his broken ribs and splint his fractured ankle. Protocol dictates that he should go underground until he is healed somewhat but his current mission is critical and time sensitive.

He watches as the car pulls into a parking space. He’s at the driver’s side door the instant it opens. “Happy Hogan?” he asks the startled man still seated in the vehicle.

“Um, yes?” Happy shakes his head, trying to catch up. “I mean, who are you? This is employee parking. You can’t be down here.”

“I am Barnes, James Buchanan Sergeant, 32557038. I need you take me to Tony Stark.” Bucky states plainly. He makes an effort to try to not too sound menacing.

Happy pulls his briefcase from the passenger seat and slowly gets out of the car. He swallows hard then answers. “I’m sorry Sergeant Barnes. That’s not gonna be possible.”

Suddenly, a half dozen Iron Legion drones encircle Bucky. Happy is trying not to panic. Bucky doesn’t even flinch. “You alerted security. That’s good. I hope you won’t need it. Government and Law Enforcement have been compromised. I’ll only talk to Tony Stark. Take me to him,” Bucky says again, more insistent.

In a unison voice the drones command, “Stand down or you will be subject to lethal force.”

“Like I said, that’s not possible.” Happy adds. “Mr. Stark is on a— training exercise.”

Bucky reads Happy’s micro expressions: dilated pupils, sweat at his brow, a wavering in his voice. “You’re lying. This was a mistake. I cannot trust you.” He begins strategizing an escape, but he stops short when the drones disengage and stand at rest. He turns to see a woman walking through the stairwell door at his left.

“Bucky? That’s what your friends call you, right?”

“Who are you?” This is not a contingency Bucky had planned for.

“I run the tower and Stark Industries. My name is Pepper. Tony’s not available at the moment, but I’ve sent word that you’re here. How can we help?”

Bucky waits a beat and listens to Pepper’s breathing. She’s given no signal of deception and he knows his options are limited. Resigned, he says, “I need to be contained. I’m dangerous. I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

Pepper nods and takes a deep breath of relief. “Happy? Is the floor we prepared for Dr. Banner operational?”

“Tony gave it a greenlight before he and Col. Rhodes went uh…” He makes a take-off gesture with his hand.

“We have someplace where you’ll be safe. It’s comfortable. I promise.”

He reads what he suspects is kindness in her voice. But, he can’t be certain. He’s not programmed to discern most emotions. “I don’t need comfort. I just need to surrender.”

The drones form a phalanx around Bucky and they all turn to follow Pepper and Happy to a large cargo elevator. He watches as they exchange an awkward glance and he can tell they’re engaged in some sort of nonverbal conversation. Finally, Pepper gives Happy a frustrated look and she says, “Do you want us send word to Steve that you’re here?”

The last he’d checked Steve was still unconscious in the hospital. “Steve’s okay?” Bucky’s heart begins to pound. Again, another feeling he is not used to experiencing.

“Better than any other WWII Vet I’ve ever met,” Happy laughs nervously.

Bucky frowns. “He has two gunshot wounds, he’s been stabbed, he has multiple facial contusions and a fractured malar bone.”

“He’s awake,” Pepper assures. “And he’s been asking if anyone has seen you. I know he’ll be relieved to hear you’re safe.”

Bucky thinks. His memories are a strange fog of before and after- of then and now. He can’t trust his mind and he doesn’t understand the feelings he is experiencing. He finds himself saying aloud, despite his not being able to figure out why he has such intel, “If he knows I’m here he’ll leave the hospital. Don’t tell him until he’s had time to recover.” And though Bucky’s not sure why, he adds the word, “Please.”


	2. CH 2 Debrief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve learns where everyone is after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D....

Sam waits until after the physician removes the last stitch from Steve’s back before delivering the news. It’s been difficult keeping the promise Miss Potts made to Bucky to let Steve recover before bringing him up to speed on his surrender. If the situation had been reversed, if Riley suddenly returned and Steve kept it from Sam, well, it wouldn’t have gone down well.

Steve gets a final once over before being cleared for discharge then asks, “Any word from the evac team about extracting Tony and Colonel Rhodes from the hot zone?” Days had gone by before anyone was able to establish a comm with Tony. He and Rhodey had been on a smash-and-grab to recover some Stark Industries tech on the black market. The strike team that had been their back up all turned out to be part of Hydra. It’d been the reason why Steve and Nat had been on their own when they went on the run.

Sam crosses his arms over his chest and nods an affirmative. “They should be back in New York tomorrow at 0530.”

“Not until tomorrow? What’s the delay?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t the only place crawling with Hydra. Just about every government institution and global private industry has been infiltrated. Ninety-nine percent of aircraft are grounded and Stark’s suits got hit with an EMP that took out their guidance systems. Our pilots have to go through triple clearance before getting the greenlight to re-enter US airspace.”

Steve gives a smile and quick thanks to nurse who’s detaching his IVs before asking, “What’s everyone else’s status?”

Sam gives a rundown as he hands a pair of jeans and a T-shirt to Steve. “Barton is off grid but managed to send word that he’s safe. Nat is on the Hill giving testimony, I feel sorry for those congressmen. We got word from Banner this morning that he’s cutting his trip to the Ashram short and will be back as soon as he can. Thor is still off world but Dr. Selvig is on the lookout.”

“Maria and Sharon?”

“They’re on clean up. Director Fury is running point for them. Apparently, there are S.H.I.E.L.D. outposts all over that’re engaged in taking out a second wave of internal Hydra operatives.”

Steve sighs. “It’s got to be hell. Working, fighting by someone’s side for years and have it all be a lie? I saw people turn their weapons on their friends out there. I mean, Rumlow and I weren’t exactly drinking buddies, but I never saw it coming. He never did a single thing in the field that led me to suspect. He always had my back, until he didn’t.”

Sam reads Steve’s heavy mood. But, he guesses there’s no exact right time upend his entire life once again. Steve is sliding on his boots when Sam says, “There’s something else you should know.”

Steve stands, pulls on his jacket and waits.

“It’s Barnes.”

“You found him? Is he…” Steve can’t finish the sentence, fearing the worst.

“He’s alive.” Sam reassures. “And it’s more like he found us. He’s under observation at Avengers Tower right now.” Sam’s not sure how much more he should say. Steve’s been through more in the last couple years than most people have to endure in a life time.

Sam follows Steve down the hospital corridor. They adjust their baseball caps and manage to make it to the back exit without being recognized. Sam knows Steve can’t handle well wishes and glad-handing right now. And although they’ve only known each other for a few weeks Sam also knows Steve is mustering the courage to ask how Bucky is doing.

They’re in the parking lot when Steve finally blurts out as much of the question as he dares. “His memory?”

“He’s given Miss Potts his name, rank and serial number about a hundred times. That’s it so far.” Sam shrugs.

Resolute and with a sense of hope that only Steve could possess he says, “It’s a start.”


	3. CH 3 An Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam and Steve drive to New York...

The drive to New York City is tense. Sam can practically feel the anxiety thrumming through Steve as he restlessly rides in the passenger seat.

_I won’t be able to focus on the road._ Steve had admitted when he passed the keys to Sam.

They’re on the Pennsylvania Turnpike before Sam decides he has to break the silence, “It’s okay to be nervous, you know.”

“I know.” Steve quietly agrees. In a thinly veiled attempt at redirecting the conversation he adds, “I really appreciate you coming along. Especially after the ringer I’ve put you through this past month.”

Sam can tell Steve needs a light distraction so he replies, “Hey man, coming from a guy who dressed up as a Howling Commando three years in a row as a kid, getting to watch Captain America’s six has been pretty much a ‘bucket list complete’ kind of experience.”

Steve huffs a laugh, with a crooked smile he asks, “Three years in a row? Really?”

Sam shrugs, “And it’s not like you’re asking but I may or may not have written a third-grade book report on _Just a Kid from Brooklyn.”_

At this revelation Steve laughs outright “I hear that one is a childhood classic.” He is grateful that Sam is playing along— helping keep Steve from worrying about what condition he’ll find Bucky in when they get to the tower.

“It is! But you should read the thesis I wrote on the Azzano Rescue when I was in training at Edwards. That one is a masterpiece if I do say so, myself.”

It's still strange for Steve to hear about his own life as history. He’d gotten used to how people rallied around the mythos of Captain America. But so much about what has made it into both children’s primers and history books is about Steve Rogers the man, not just Captain America the symbol. Of course, there's also so much of who Steve really was and is that has never become part of America’s historical fabric. He wonders sometimes whether that’s a good thing or not. In Brooklyn and during the war Steve had to keep the most important part of his life private. And now living, here, in the future, Steve still hasn’t felt ready to let people in on the more intimate details of who he is. He wants to. It shouldn’t be a secret. But it’s not just his story to tell. It’s his and Bucky’s story. It’s their lives, together. And how would people like Sam, who’d grown up idolizing Captain America, react when they found out? Steve needs the friends he has. And he’s not ready to change the image they have of him.

When Sam realizes that Steve is once again lost in thought he immediately regrets bringing up the War. “Sorry, Cap. I should’ve known better. I didn’t mean to open up old wounds mentioning Azzano.”

Steve shakes off the apology. “Sam. Two years ago I fought aliens in New York. It takes a lot to trigger me these days.” He’s affable in his tone. Always one to put others’ well being before his own, “I don’t mind talking about the War, if you want. But, I’m guessing you’d rather ask about the Avengers?”

Relieved and admittedly excited Sam lets loose with a flurry of questions _How big is Banner really when he Hulks out? Is Barton really the bullseye shot the media says he is? What’s it like working with civilian combatants? What’s Tony Stark like when he’s not in front of dozens of cameras and microphones? _

Steve answers Sam’s questions. They talk about the different takes cable news had on the Battle of New York. They chat about the enhancements Tony has made to everyone’s gear over the last couple years in anticipation of what might fall through the sky next.

The ride has become comfortable, easy even. It’s when Steve decides to ask. He was going to wait to talk to the team first but, he knows Nat will second Steve’s decision. “You could be one, if you want. An Avenger, that is. After all, with Thor back in Asgard, we’re a man short.”

“Right.” Sam laughs incredulously. “A VA social worker pinch-hitting for a Nordic God? Sure thing.”

“Hey I’ve seen you in action. Your wings could give Thor’s hammer a run for its money. Assuming you’re okay with letting Tony giving them an upgrade or two.”

Sam still can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack. I’ve fought alongside the best men and women in two centuries. I’d put you right up there with them, if you’re game.” 

Stunned, Sam takes his right hand off the wheel and offers it to Steve. “It’d be an honor, Cap. Thank you.”

“Thank you, Sam. The honor is mine, truly.”


	4. CH 4 Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve and Bucky see each other again for the first time since the Hellicarrier...

The last time Steve rode in an elevator his entire life turned upside down. Now, as he stands along side Happy on the way up to the newly renovated residential floors of Avengers Tower, Steve knows that once again the next few minutes will set him on path that has an end he can’t even begin to predict. He nods politely, giving every indication that he’s paying attention, as Happy tells Steve about all the upgrades that Tony has made to the quarters especially prepared for Bruce in hopes that he would agree to join Stark Industries as the new head of their Clean Energy Division. “We’ve got re-enforced steel doors, pressurized steam deterrent faucets in the ceiling and a series of trap doors that open downward into containment cells in the flooring. You know Tony, even his contingencies have contingencies. He’ll do anything to make sure you all feel at home in the tower— assuming of course he can convince any of you to move in.”

Steve shakes himself out of his head and responds, “Well, I don’t have a job anymore. So, I may need to crash on Tony’s couch for a while until I can figure out how to make rent.”

“Avenging isn’t freelance work, you know. Pepper has an offer package worked up for all of you with housing, a car allowance, even dental! If you accepted, I’m sure everyone else would follow your lead. Say the word, Cap and I’ll get papers drawn up for your friend Sam, too.” Happy eagerly explains. He’s hoping to close the deal before Tony makes it home.

“I’ll think about it, Happy. You know I always appreciate Tony’s generosity.” Quickly he adds, “And you’ve always made sure I have everything I need when I’m in town. Right now, I just need to focus on—” Steve gestures to the elevator doors as they open. He hesitates and only walks forward when he realizes that Happy is waiting to follow him out.

“The primary isolation cell is to the right of the lab. That’s where he’s staying. Sgt. Barnes asked us to house him in the most secure location in the building. It’s built to hold Dr. Banner when he’s um…” Happy makes a growling sound and raises his arms in the air as if he’s a giant gorilla.

“Thanks.” Steve replies. He finds that his mouth has gone dry. The hallway is lined with Tony’s drones. He gives Happy a questioning look.

“Like I said, Contingencies.” Happy explains as he taps on his StarkPad to turn on the lights.

It’s then that Steve sees Bucky standing at parade-rest behind what looks to be over two feet of plexiglass.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Happy quietly adds, almost reverent.

When Happy’s footsteps are finally out of earshot Steve says, “Hey there, Buck.”

Bucky’s eyes meet Steve’s. In a monotone he states, “You’re out of the hospital.”

Steve takes a step closer to the glass. Against his better judgment he tries out some old banter. “You really think a couple scrapes are gonna put me down for the count?”

Something from _Before_ starts swimming in Bucky’s head. A memory? He’s not sure. _Before_ is always difficult for him to tune in to, it’s like a signal trying to break through too much static. He does his best to focus then says, “I taught you how to box.” It’s a question though it comes out sounding like a statement.

Steve’s chest tightens in a warring mixture of worry and hope. “You remember?”

“I remember my mission.” Again, Bucky’s reply is monotone. He needs to do another self-inventory he thinks to himself because he’s suddenly feeling pain. It does not make sense. He’s had no new injury.

Bucky’s words are a gut punch. Wrecked, Steve asks, “Your mission?”

“To keep you alive.” Bucky answers, “Barnes, James Buchanan Sergeant, 32557038 Designated Marksman assigned to the 107th Infantry Regiment, my mission is to provide cover for you, Captain Steve Rogers, and your tac team the Howling Commandos.”

Steve has to fight back tears welling his eyes, “Buck—”

“To keep you alive,” Bucky interrupts and continues, “Our radiator is on the blink. I use my body heat to keep you warm so you don’t get sick again. You won’t make it through another bout of pneumonia” _Before_ is sending flashes into Bucky’s head. “To keep you alive. I have to make sure you don’t get your block knocked off by the neighborhood bully.”

“Hey, Bucky, can you hear me?” Steve tries. But Bucky is somewhere else. It’s as if he’s time traveling. Steve doesn’t know what to do.

“To keep you alive,” Bucky cannot stop he lists an endless run of _Before_ and all the times he came to Steve’s rescue.

Steve takes another step forward, ignoring the painted boundary line on the floor. He presses his hand to the glass. Insistent, Steve says, “Bucky stand-down, your mission is complete. I’m here. I am alive. You saved me, more times than I can count. I’m safe.”

_Before_ lets go of its stranglehold on Bucky. In vain, he reaches forward and places his hand as close to Steve’s as he can get it. The glass is too thick. He wants to touch Steve, he needs to at least once. He can feel _After_ trying to take over again. “Don’t let me out. You won’t be safe if I’m out.”

Desperate, Steve answers, “We can get you help. What they did to you. We can undo it. I know it.” Steve means every word. He’ll bust through every Hydra base on the planet until he finds a cure for Bucky. He’ll enlist anyone with more than two braincells to figure what to do. Steve won’t stop. He won’t lose Bucky again. Ever.

Bucky’s eyes are going dark. He struggles to hold on to the present, to_ Now_, but _After_ is still too strong, “You have to go Steve. Don’t come back. My other mission isn’t complete. And I always complete my missions.”


	5. CH 5 Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky receives medical attention...

CH 5 Care

Twelve days have passed since Bucky last checked in with his handler. Pierce is dead. Hydra is on the run. Bucky is in control of his own body again for the first time in decades and he is able to stay in control of his mind if he focuses on developing a strategy— if he works out a plan. Surveilling Avengers Tower, vetting Stark’s personnel, checking on Steve’s recovery had all helped Bucky tamp down his programming. And yet, if he's agitated or if his mind is idle he finds himself going into a sort of auto-pilot. He needs a new problem to work through. Standing here in this cell with nothing to do makes him dangerous. Quietly, he says to the Tower’s, apparent, virtual assistant, “I need a doctor.”

A voice that sounds eerily human replies, “Right away, Sgt. Barnes. Someone will be with you shortly. In the mean-time is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

Bucky thinks. He’s not used to assessing what his body needs beyond repair of injury or malfunction. After a moment he asks, “Could you turn the lights down a little?”

The bright lights slowly dim as the voice says, “Of course. Please do not hesitate to ask should you need anything else.”

“Thank you.” Bucky realizes in that moment that a computer has just shown him what he now reads as kindness. He’s beginning to be able discern emotions— even if they are synthetic. 

After a moment passes a woman approaches Bucky’s cell. “Sgt, Barnes, my name is Dr. Helen Cho. I was told you need medical assistance? How can I help?”

Instinctively, Bucky takes in the small amount of intel she’s provided. Without realizing it he replies to her in Korean, “What kind of doctor are you?”

Helen smiles and answers Bucky back in the language of her home country, “Your Daegu dialect is excellent. You haven’t the slightest hint of an accent. In answer to your question, I’m a physician- with specializations in cardiology and emergency medicine. I also hold doctorates in biomedical ethics and cybergenetics.”

Bucky nods. The doctor is far more qualified to help him than he’d thought would be possible. He silently works to prioritize what he should ask her to tend to first.

Helen takes the lead and breaks the silence that’s quickly becoming awkward. “Your file says you haven’t eaten since you arrived. Is that correct?”

“I don’t eat. I’m fed.” Bucky tugs at his trousers to reveal an abdominal port just below his waistline.

“You use a feeding tube?” Helen asks, as she tries to hide her concerned surprise.

“My handlers insert it. But I only require nutritional replenishment, once, every two-hundred and forty hours. I’m forty-one hours overdue,” Bucky answers, “I am not certain how many calories I need.”

“We can work that out. Do you know, are you able to eat?”

“I know I ate Before.” A flash comes to Bucky, “My mother made cabbage stew. I don’t remember what it tasted like, but I remember that I liked it.” The words feel strange coming from his mouth. Bucky’s not entirely certain what it means to “like” something.

Helen types notes into her Starkpad and then asks, “Sgt. Barnes, may I have your permission to run a bioscan? It’s completely safe and painless. JARVIS can perform it right as you are, if you don’t mind.”

The question makes Bucky uneasy. When was the last time his body was really his own? It’s been the property of Hydra for so long that it’s difficult to make sense out of having a choice about what is done to him. But after a quick internal risk assessment Bucky silently agrees. Just as the doctor said, Bucky doesn’t feel the bioscan at all.

It’s over almost instantly and Bucky listens as JARVIS provides Dr. Cho with the results, “Sgt. Barnes’ gastro-intestinal health is optimal. I recommend a gradual re-introduction to food as you wean him off the formula. He may need some orthodontic care to ensure his teeth are strong enough for solid food. His cardiothoracic system too is optimal. His fracture ribs and talus have been properly immobilized and are healing. Sgt. Barnes is mildly dehydrated. Liquids and nourishment are required presently.”

“Thank you JARIVS." Dr. Cho replies. She notices that JARVIS adds a silent text message to her pad, _more brain scans are necessary. I detect damage to Sgt.Barnes’ hippocampus and limbic system. _

“So, we have a good read on your health. I know you’ve been experiencing some memory trouble I can help with the neurological aspects of that. And I can recommend a colleague who works with people who have experienced extreme circumstances to help you with your memory, lucidity and emotional wellness.” She’s mindful of Bucky’s fragile mental state and purposefully avoids using the words therapist or trauma. “We’ll get a formula prepared right away to feed you. What else can I help you with?”

“I need you to take the arm. Or at the very least, disable it. This cell won’t be able to contain me otherwise. I’ve done the calculations. With appropriate, persistent force I will be able to compromise the plexiglass in three hours and sixteen minutes.” Bucky feels his heart rate begin to rise. The thought of getting out, of hurting people— of hurting Steve— makes Bucky’s chest tighten with pain.

Dr. Cho does her best to remain composed. She makes a quick glance behind her to see the drones keeping guard, “Are you feeling the desire to leave? My understanding is you are here voluntarily.”

“No. I want to stay here. But, I don’t know if Hydra is able to control me remotely. If I’m activated, this arm is just short of being a WMD. You should put a sedative in the formula too.” Part of him wants to ask to be knocked out, or just go back into cryo. That would be the simplest option. But he reckons his survival programming is preventing him from making that request.

“I can arrange a mild sedative to help keep you calm, but I prefer that you remain aware of your surroundings. We don’t want to do anything that could impede the progress you’re making regaining your memories. As for your arm, Mr. Stark and I can develop a plan when he returns. In the meantime, we’ll get you fed and then you should try and get some rest.”

Bucky looks behind him to the bench at the far end of the cell., “Doctor Cho?” Bucky begins in English.

“Yes?”

Bucky finds that he needs to muster courage to ask, “Am I allowed to have a blanket?”


	6. CH 6 A Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony tells Pepper what he knows...

CH 6 A Secret

Tony deboards the plane all smiles and jokes. He claps Rhodey on the back and encourages him to wave to the crowd of reporters who are all vying for eye contact and an individualized soundbite directly from Iron Man.

Pepper and Happy bite back their frustration as Tony brushes off medics who try to corral him and Rhodey to the ambulances waiting on the tarmac.

Rhodey plays the long-suffering ally. He whispers to Tony in vain, “Come on man, I’ll get a press conference all set up for you. We’ll get talking points in line. Get an official word on how Hydra managed to pull the wool over the US Government’s eyes for the last seventy years before we add fuel to the fire.”

“Relax, Rhodey. I got this.” Tony assures as he steps into the press gaggle— instantly charming even his critics. “Of course, by now, you’ve all heard about the audacious bro-weekend Colonel Rhodes and I have been on. And yes, it turns out we had a few foxes in the old hen house. But some wannabe fascist fanboys are no match for the greatest country of the world. The country and the world my father helped protect from the Nazis back in dubya-dubya two alongside Captain America. The world I am going to help protect alongside all of the Avengers.” It takes all of the reporters’ decorum to keep from applauding along with the onlooking airport personnel who have gathered to catch a glimpse.

Rhodey manages to shuffle Tony away from the crowd. They are both convincing in their assertions that they’re fine, that the news of the firefight that lasted nearly a week was blown way out of proportion, that they were never in any real danger. It isn’t until Tony is a back at the Tower, alone with Pepper in their private quarters that he breaks.

Pepper desperately tries to comfort Tony, to get him to breathe, to let him know he’s safe. She follows him to the floor and holds him in her arms as they lean back against the foot of the bed. “Nobody saw this coming, Tony. You can’t blame yourself.”

“No. Don’t you see. I didn’t keep my eye on the ball. I’ve been so damned focused on whoever backed Loki’s play in New York— on whatever possible nuclear-grade E.T. is swimming around in the skies up there that I didn’t notice the threat in my own damn back yard. And it’s not even just that… It’s…”

Pepper strokes his hair, “It’s what, Tony?”

“I told myself it was worth it. All the science fairs and birthday parties and Christmases he missed. My dad was protecting us. But it was all for nothing. The enemy was just taking five and waiting until we had our guard down to strike.” Tony feels his chest tighten more. The air in the room literally wont fit in his lungs. He reaches for his phone and throws up a holoscreen of Bucky, asleep in his cell. “And now this?”

“We can help Sgt. Barnes. Dr. Cho is working up a plan.” Pepper assures. She masks her worry and tries to appear as calm as possible.

“Don’t you get it? Ever since I swore off building weapons I have been trying to clean up after the messes my father left behind—both in the world and in my own head. But Barnes? How am I going to make this right?

Pepper has seen Tony manic, depressed, agitated, scared but this is something new. “Help me understand what you’re talking about, Tony. I’m not following,” she pleads.

Tony stares at the image of Bucky that’s floating in the room. “My dad knew. He knew they had him.”

Stunned, Pepper asks, “What?” How could he have possibly—”

But Tony cuts her off and continues, “Back in ’87 I was home for Thanksgiving, I overheard Aunt Peg and my dad arguing. She’d found out he’d known Barnes had been the alive for years. She accused my dad of using the rumors about the Winter Soldier to help close deals for his defense contracts. He denied it, but she had some sort of evidence. She quit SHIELD the next day. Never came to the house again.”

“The Winter Soldier?” Pepper asks. She knows that name. She probably one of the very few people outside of the intelligence community to have ever heard it. She knows that name because Tony talks in his sleep. “Tony, are you telling me that Barnes was the one who—”

“Killed my parents?” He huffs a disdainful laugh. “Yeah, he’s the one.”

“And you’ve never told Steve.” Pepper discerns.

“I never figured there was a point. It’d only hurt him. Besides, there hasn’t been any chatter of the Winter Soldier turning up since ’91. I honestly just assumed he was in cold-storage. Or dead. But he isn’t. He’s back, under our goddamn roof. And I’m supposed to nurse him back to health like he’s a stray pup? I just don’t know if I can do it.” Tony admits, defeated.

“But Tony, what he did to your parents, to all those people. It wasn’t his fault.”

“Don’t you think I know that? It’s not the Winter Soldier who's going to ruin everything. It’s Bucky.” Tony stands up and paces as he rubs his face over his hands.

Pepper gets up to sit on the edge of the bed. She silently watches Tony walk back and forth for close to a minute before she asks, “Tony, what aren’t you telling me?”

“I’m a lot of things, Pepper. But I’m not a leader. Nobody is going to fall in line behind me. To make the Avengers happen- to really be the first and last line of defense for the world, we have to have Steve. I’ve read the history books, I’ve heard my dad and Aunt Peg’s stories and I’ve seen the diaries.” It’s not his secret to tell. Tony knows this. And Steve Rogers had always been the big brother that died in the war before Tony was born. He’d always been a sort of first son of Howard Stark’s. Tony had grown up in Steve’s shadow. But ever since New York Tony had begun to feel a little less alone in the world. He'd been standing and fighting alongside Steve, alongside the mythic Captain America. Desperate, Tony turns to Pepper and says, “This Tower, all the renovating, the tech upgrades. It’s supposed to be a home for all of us, for Steve and the rest team. But he won’t pick us.”

Again, Pepper goes to Tony’s side, “Why do you think that?”

“Because, any way you slice it, my not telling him that Bucky survived that fall is a betrayal. And even if he could forgive me Steve Rogers will always put Bucky Barnes first. They’re…” Tony struggles for the right words until he settles on, “They’re family, Pepper. Just like you and I are.”


	7. CH 7 Downtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve gets a much needed break...

CH 7 Downtime

Sam nervously rubs his hands over his thighs before he stands to answer the door. After all, it’s not every day that one of his childhood heroes comes to his great-grandmother’s home for Sunday dinner. Belying his own excitement he says, “Now, Nana. Don’t make a fuss over him. He’s just a soldier doing his part.”

Mrs. Wilson slaps her great-grandson’s arm with a tea towel. "He’s a guest in my home, I’ll fuss over him as much as I please.”

Sam raises his hands in surrender and chuckles, “All right, all right. But maybe wait until dessert before you bring out bring out your Captain America scrapbook?”

She shoos him to the door then removes her apron and gives herself a quick look in the mirror. “Just let him in. Don’t make the man wait.”

Sam answers the door to find Steve standing in the hall with a bouquet of flowers in hand. Before they can say hello to each other Mrs. Wilson lightly shoves her great-grandson out of the way and says in an almost bashful tone, “Captain Rogers, Welcome. Oh! You’ve brought me violets. How lovely.”

“Yes ma’am.” Steve replies, channeling his best Captain America charm as he hands her the bouquet, “Thank you for inviting me to dinner. It’s been a while since I’ve had a home cooked meal.” Steve follows Mrs. Wilson and Sam into the living room. He looks around the space, taking in the early mid-century décor. “You have such a nice home.”

“Been here since thirty-nine. And I’m not going anywhere. A Whole Foods grocery and all those young white folks riding around on their scooters aren’t gonna push me out.” Parts of Harlem have begun to become nearly as gentrified as Brooklyn. Steve knows all too well how high rental prices and unjust eminent domain laws have been displacing working class families throughout the boroughs.

“Thirty-nine?” Steve asks, “I remember. There was a club on this street. Harlem’s Paradise. Bucky loved that place. He brought me there to hear Billie Holliday perform for my birthday that year.”

“Woo-eee!” Mrs. Wilson exclaims. “Harlem’s Paradise was jumpin’ best jazz club off of 125th I’ll tell you what!”

Sam just watches on in bemused wonder as his great-grandmother and Steve excitedly recall Harlem and other spots throughout 1930s New York City. The two carry on a lively conversation throughout dinner. Sam barely gets a word in but he isn’t bothered. At nearly ninety Nana has slowed down quite a lot in the last few years. But tonight, talking with Steve, she almost seems as if she’s a young woman again. And Sam notices there is the change in Steve as well. He’s smiling a genuine, easy smile and Sam wonders how long it’s been since Steve has had a real chance to relax.

Sure enough, as Sam and Steve help themselves to second slices of sweet potato pie, Mrs. Wilson briefly leaves the table to return with an ancient looking, over stuffed scrapbook adorned with red, white and blue ribbons, “Now Steve, I promised my great-grandson that I wouldn’t embarrass you but I have to show you this picture.” She opens the book slowly and with deliberate care and gently pulls out a photograph. “Now, you don’t know this I’m sure, but we once met when you were on your USO tour.”

Steve takes the photo from her to see an image of him holding on to the outer rail of a theater balcony posing for picture with Mrs. Wilson. “How old were you here?” Steve asks.

“Just seventeen. I brought my little brother to the program to see you.” Steve hands the photo to Sam as Mrs. Wilson continues. “Thomas loved going to live appearances of his radio heroes. We’d seen Zorro, The Lone Ranger, even Little Orphan Annie. But nothing was like the day we saw you.” She turns to Sam and says, “Back in those days we had to sit in the rafters in ‘the Negro section’ as they called it, as far up and in back of the theater as they could put us. And we weren’t ever allowed down in the orchestra seats to get a picture or an autograph. But, Captain Rogers here, on that day, jumped from the stage and just climbed his way up to the second balcony all lickety-split and stayed to pose for pictures and greet every last one of us. You shook our hands, talked with us, hugged us even. I’ll never forget that day, or the look on Tommy’s face when he met you.”

“You were all there to help raise money for the War effort. Shaking your hands and saying hello is the very least I could have done,” Steve answers modestly and tries to downplay his actions. “The Allies wouldn’t have won without the homefront’s support. Everyone did their part.”

“You don’t get it, Steve.” Sam replies. “What you did means a whole lot to my family. Most of us who're able either joined the military or the cloth. The Wilson family tries to help make the world a little bit better. And the respect you showed Nana and my late Uncle Tommy is a partly why we do what we do.”

“Well, I’d say the way you helped Nat and me these last few weeks to put one in the win column is hopefully gonna help make the world a little better.” Steve gently takes Mrs. Wilson’s hand in his. “I couldn’t have taken down Hydra if it weren’t for your great-grandson. He’s a hero and one of the best men I’ve ever had the privilege to have by my side in a fight.”

Mrs. Wilson is visibly moved. She silently pats Steve’s cheek.

After a moment Sam stands and starts to clear the dishes from the table. Steve follows his lead. But Mrs Wilson stops them. Now composed she says, "You boys go relax for a bit. The dishes can wait.”

***

Steve follows Sam up the main stairwell of the rowhouse. When they reach the roof Sam holds open the door for Steve and then hands him a cold bottle of beer from his jacket breast pocket. “Nana doesn’t like alcohol, but she still has cold ones on hand for me when I come to dinner as long as I don’t drink them in the apartment.”

Steve pulls the cap from the beer and Sam just laughs, “That wasn’t a screw top, you know.”

Steve just shrugs and takes Sam’s beer to pop the top for him as well. “Thanks again for the invitation to dinner. I didn’t realize how much I’ve needed some R&R.”

Sam silently nods as they both take a seat in a couple weather worn lawn chairs, “This is where I come when I need some R&R. Even if I can’t actually make it home to Harlem. I remember back when I was freezing my ass off in a cave in Afghanistan I’d just think about the sounds from 125th street, music playing, kids shouting and causing trouble, the smell of roof top bbq. This is my spot. Whenever I need a break, no matter where I am. I think of this place.”

“Hmm.” Steve responds more to himself than Sam. “Sounds like a good way to cope.”

“What about you, do you have a spot? Someplace that just thinking about relaxes you?” Sam asks, his training as a social worker unconsciously kicking in.

“I don’t know,” Steve answers honestly. “Any spot that I had doesn’t exist anymore. Brooklyn is unrecognizable.”

“It’s not about actually being there, physically. It’s about thinking about how a place made you feel. It doesn’t need to be your home. Just anyplace where you can just completely be yourself.” Sam offers.

“A farm house outside of Dijon.” Steve says in a whisper.

“Yeah? During the War?”

“We were on a re-con mission. Phillips was looking to recruit some members of the French Resistance. But a huge storm hit. So, Bucky and I had to hunker down for nearly three days. Just the two of us. It’s the last time we—” Steve stops and pulls his phone from his pocket to check JARVIS’s livestream of Bucky’s cell. “Looks like they finally got him to sleep.”

Sam senses that Steve is looking to change the subject so he says, “You gonna take Stark up on his offer to move in to the Tower?”

Steve shrugs, “I’ve got Peg to consider. She’s still in DC and I want to be around for her good days as long as she’s got ‘em.”

“They’re both important to you.” Sam responds.

Steve reads something almost knowing in Sam’s tone. So he just sighs and says, “Yeah, they both are.”  
  



	8. CH 8 An Agreement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony and Bucky meet...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just to clarify I am keeping this fic canon compliant up until right after Steve wakes up in the hospital in CA:TWS I'm diverging before the end montage. That'll become more apparent in subsequent chapters.

CH 8 

Bucky’s mind is beginning to settle. The rest, nourishment and sedatives have certainly helped and he finds that Before and After aren’t warring with each other inside his head—at least not at this particular moment, but he still feels his programming scratching at his brain. Thankfully JARVIS has been able to keep him occupied.

“Can we try this one in Arabic?” Bucky asks as a holoscreen featuring a Brooklyn Eagle crossword puzzle appears before him.

“Certainly, Sergeant.” JARVIS reconfigures the puzzle and adjusts the holo-keyboard to feature Arabic characters. “That’s seven languages we’ve gone through. Might I ask, how many do you speak?”

“I’m fluent in about a dozen. I have passable knowledge of ten or so more.” Bucky begins filling the ‘across’ words first. The puzzle is from 1924. The first year his hometown paper began publishing the word game on a regular basis.

“That’s impressive. As are your puzzle skills.” JARVIS notes as he silently monitors Bucky’s heart rate and other vitals. No signs of agitation. JARVIS has employed an executive function to remove any words or clues that might cause Bucky distress.

“I used to work on them with Steve when he was laid up. He was great with the history and culture clues. I was better at vocabulary and anagrams,” Bucky responds before he even realizes what he’s saying. The memory was just there sitting in his mind-- easy for him to access. No clouds or fog to fight through to get to it. But still, when thinking about Steve he can feel that itch of his programming. That pull to complete the mission Pierce gave him to eliminate the target. It terrifies him. Thankfully, Steve has kept his promise to stay away from the Tower. Bucky still doesn’t trust that this cell can hold him.

“Mr. Stark has made note of Captain Rogers’ desire to catch up on the music and films he missed when he was indisposed. I could play movies for you too if you wish.”

“No. The puzzles are fine.” Bucky answers. He doesn't want to think about Steve. It's too difficult to stay at ease when he does. After a beat Bucky asks, “When will Tony Stark be available? I still need to talk to him.”

“He’s presently tending to some business but I have made him aware of your request.”

***

As soon as Tony turns the corner leading to the containment cell he sees Bucky standing at attention. In typical fashion, Tony dismisses the gravity of the moment and asks, “So I hear you pulled a John McClane to break into my building. What’s so urgent that you couldn’t make an appointment?”

Still at attention Bucky answers, “I’m here to surrender and submit myself for disciplinary action.”

Tony rubs his chin then crosses his arms over his chest, “Uh huh. Any reason in particular you’ve come to me?”

“Steve trusts you. So that means I can.” Bucky then looks directly at Tony and says, “Also, I owe you a debt.”

Irritated, Tony waves his hand at Bucky’s military stance, “Take it easy, Beetle Bailey. I’m not your commanding officer.”

Bucky’s confused. He stands at rest then says, “My name is James—”

“I know who you are.” Tony cuts in “Bucky Barnes, Captain America’s ever loyal sidekick. I’ve got all the comics. They’re mint. Though, I have to admit it’s a bit disconcerting seeing you all grown up and out of the mask and tights. Guess they made you younger to appeal to kids.” With a flourish Tony adds, “Marketing.” His flippant remarks belie the fact that he’s standing in front of the man who murdered his parents.

Bucky doesn’t understand much of what Tony is saying. Nevertheless he does his best to keep up with the conversation. “You’ve fought by his side too. When I was gathering intel I read about New York. You saved everyone. You saved Steve.”

“He’s had my back on more than just the rare occasion too. That’s what the Avengers do. We take care of business and we take care of each other. Now again, why did you come to me?”

“Because I need to be stopped. If that means crossing me off, then you should be the one to do it.” Bucky can see the faces of Howard and Maria Stark dying on a lonely roadside by his hand.

Tony engages the security system from his watch. An invisible door materializes and opens in the glass.

Startled, Bucky steps back against the far all of the cell and steels himself as Tony walks in.

“Did you ask for that programming? For those missions?” Tony asks, fully knowing the answer.

Bucky shakes his head. “no.”

“I know a thing or two about being a hostage. You do what you have to do to stay alive. Is that right?”

Bucky nods an affirmative. He’s unable to read Tony’s tone.

“Then the way I see it, what you did all those years. It wasn’t you.”

“I know,” Bucky sighs, “But I did it.”

“Look, if you want absolution I can get a Padre from St. Patrick's on the horn for you to talk to.” Tony offers.

“I’m not asking for forgiveness.” _I don’t deserve it_, Bucky says to himself.

Tony waits a second then says, “Fine. I’ll put my cards on the table. As far as I’m concerned Hydra killed my parents. Not you.” He steps forward, right into Bucky’s space. “I’ll help you get your brain out of that blender they put it in. And then you tell me everything I need to know to wipe Hydra off the face of the Earth once and for all. You do that, I’ll call us even. What do you say?”

Stunned at Tony’s revelation Bucky asks, “I’ll help you bring them down but why would you ever help me after what I’ve done to you?”

“Because Hydra is little league compared to what I saw up in the skies a few years back. We’re in the Bigs now, and I need you to be in shape to bat clean-up for Captain America like you used to back in the day. You in?”

Bucky offers his hand to Tony and asks, “When do we start?”


	9. CH 9 A Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve has a moment to himself...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of what's mentioned in the intro paragraph of this chapter is inspired by the post-Winter Soldier episodes of Agent's of S.H.I.E.LD.

Steve absently kicks at a loose piece of gravel on the pavement as he leans back against the seat of his bike. He knows he’s early. The rendezvous isn’t set for another twenty minutes. And if the Avengers are anything, they’re punctual. That’s not to say that getting everyone together isn’t like herding cats. If only the word Assemble was as powerful as it is catchy. Steve doesn’t mind though, in fact, if he’s being honest, he’s somewhat nervous to see and talk with everyone.

His decision to bring down S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t quite unilateral though it was pretty damn close. Fury, Hill and Nat had all backed his play and Sam had stepped up way beyond the call of duty. But none of them had even considered the backlash their actions ended up causing. S.H.I.E.L.D. detention centers across the globe had been crawling with Hydra operatives who’d made every effort to release as many dangerous enhanced people as was possible. Storage facilities had been looted and a now countless number of other worldly WMDs were back in play and in God knows who’s hands. Hydra had come out of the shadows and in to the light but they’d quickly scattered. Steve is certain they're mounting a hell of a defense. He had tried to bring down a corrupt agency. Instead he may have just started a war. He knows he should be strategizing, going over inventory reports and prioritizing missions. But right now, finding the intel that can help deprogram Bucky is Steve’s top, if not only, concern. He wants Bucky back, he wants all of him back.

Steve remembers what Sam had said a few weeks ago about having a spot— a place in your mind you can visit when you need a break. He checks his watch, still fifteen minutes out before the others arrive. Steve closes his eyes and lets himself indulge.

**World War II, Occupied France, Dijon **

“Any luck?” Steve asks from the top of a stairwell as he keeps watch. They’d swept the entire farm and set up a couple SSR designed silent trip-wires around the perimeter but he was still on edge. The Howlies are on a multi-site recon mission—broken up into teams of two. He and Bucky had made it well into enemy territory,successfully gathered the necessary intel for their next strike against Schmidt’s forces thanks to some weary yet determined Resistance members and were on their way back to report to Col Phillips when a spring blizzard hit. They’ve thankfully found cover on a seemingly abandoned farm but the snow isn’t letting up and it’s nearing white-out conditions outside. He and Bucky are going to have to hunker down. Steve honestly can’t say he’s all together upset about their situation.

“Bingo!” Bucky answers as he appears at the bottom of the stairs holding up two bottles of wine in each of his hands. “You go start a fire. I’ll pop the corks.”

“You giving the orders now, Sergeant?” Steve teases. He’s happy to see Bucky in such a good mood. He’d been carrying a heavy load of melancholy ever since Azzano.

“That’s right.” Bucky replies taking the steps two at time. “And if you’re not in your skivvys when I get to the parlor, I’m going to make you drop and give me twenty!”

***

They’d made it through half the wine. Steve and Bucky had scavenged the entire house and brought every blanket they could find down to the parlor, stripped out of their wet uniforms and set up camp for themselves in front of the fire.

“This hooch ain’t half bad.” Bucky drawls.

Steve surveys the label on the bottle. “I’m pretty sure this is a Chablis. Not hooch.”

“It’s free and it’s getting me nice and drunk. That’s all I care about.”

“And you call me a light weight, I’m not feeling a thing.”

Bucky sits up and grabs at Steve’s bicep. Inspecting it. “Probably because the US Army issued you new muscles and about a foot of height. All I got was an M1941 Johnson Rifle and some itchy undershorts.”

Steve notices that Bucky is letting his hand linger on his arm. His mouth has gone dry but he’s forgotten he’s holding a bottle of wine. Quietly Steve says, “This feels like before the war, when it was just you and me.”

Bucky’s hand traces up Steve’s arm and cups his hand behind Steve’s neck. “We had some good times before the war,” Bucky offers.

Steve leans forward letting his lips ghost in front of Bucky as he replies, “We had more than good times. We had everything.”

A smile plays on Bucky’s lips, “We didn’t have two nickels to rub together.”

“But we did have each oth—” Steve’s words are stopped short with Bucky’s kiss. They’re slow, almost languid. They take their time, letting themselves explore. It’s been nearly a year since Bucky first deployed, since Steve met Dr. Erksine, joined up, underwent Project Rebirth. It hits Steve in that moment that this is the first time he and Bucky have been together this way since he’s had this new body. “Buck, wait.”

“Hmm?” Bucky replies in a dizzy huff.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it? That I look like this now?” Steve’s suddenly self-conscious, shy even. He fights the urge to cover himself with a blanket.

Bucky reaches up and cards his fingers through Steve’s hair. “They fixed your lungs? And that bad ticker of yours?”

Steve leans in to Bucky’s touch. “That’s what they tell me.”

“They clearly didn’t fix that knack you have for getting yourself into a world of shit while you’re constantly playing the do-gooder.”

“Nope. That’s what I got you for, to rescue me right when I have ‘em on the ropes.”

Bucky nods. “Then you’re still exactly how I want you—thick headed and full of idealism. It’s what made me fall in love with you.”

“How about you shut up and show me how much you love me.” Steve says as he rakes his fingers down Bucky’s chest.

“I thought you’d never ask.” At that Bucky pushes Steve back into the nest of blankets. Steve nearly keens as Bucky takes hold of his cock and gets him to the edge with firm and steady strokes. Bucky then whispers in Steve’s ear, “Tell me what you want.”

In a mixture of frustration and bliss Steve whines, “You know what I want.”

“You gotta say the words” Bucky insists. “You know I love it when you say the words.”

Steve nuzzles into Bucky’s neck biting at him and then in a full-on groan Steve says, “I want you to fuck me Bucky. Please.”

In no time Steve finds himself on his hands and knees having been man-handled by Bucky— not that Steve’s complaining. It takes a lot for Bucky to get in a mood like this. Usually when they’re having sex he’s especially careful with Steve, irritatingly so. But now it seems that Bucky is really letting go. He’s giving Steve everything. He’s giving him all of himself. Bucky’s not holding back and Steve can feel it.

Outside the snow is still falling and the world is still at war, but inside this French farm house out in the middle of nowhere Steve feels completely at peace. It doesn’t matter where they are. When Steve and Bucky are together, they are home.


	10. CH 10 Assemble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the team comes together...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some of the Jargon is pulled from episodes of Agents of SHIELD.

CH 10 Assemble

Steve rouses from his daydream to the unmistakable sound of a palladium powered, thirty-two value engine. He opens his eyes to see Tony pulling up in his roadster.

Anticipating Steve’s question about where the others are, Tony turns off his vehicle and calls out, “Rhodey and your man Wilson are still dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s with Pepper before they’re official. She’s not taking any short cuts with protocol. They’ll catch up to us tomorrow. Eyes up for everyone else. They should be touching down soon.”

Steve nods. “It’s good to see you Tony. I followed news of the skirmish you were in as best I could. I wish I had been there to lend a hand.”

Once he’s out of the car Tony replies, “And I wish I’d been here to help you bring down the global intelligence infrastructure. Sounds like good times. Sorry I missed it. Especially that part where you dropped three of Hydra 2.0’s flying genocide machines into the Potomac. You made quite the splash.”

Steve can’t help but chuckle at Tony’s pun despite his serious mood. “A splash that landed me in the ICU.”

Tony silently debates whether or not to broach the subject. He makes a call. Better to rip off the band-aid he reasons. “And sent your old pal scratching at my back door.”

“Pepper forwarded me the incident report. Bucky came to the Tower because in all of the entire world he only felt safe with you. He barely knew his own name but he knows that I trust you. That was enough. And the live-stream you set up for me of his quarters has made it almost bearable to stay away. I’ll never be able to repay you for everything you’re doing to help.” Steve struggles to say anymore, fearing he’ll start to choke up.

Steve’s words make Tony sick with guilt. “According to my bookkeeping you’re well into the black, Cap. In fact, when we finish up with the first few rounds of this scavenger-hunt we have to go on I think we should pop open one of my old man’s bottles of scotch and settle up.” Tony knows that he is the one with red in his ledger. But, this isn’t the time to come clean—not when there’s so much work to do.

Steve’s about to ask what Tony means by “settle up” when a heavy, warm wind starts to blow. Tony and Steve look up just as the quinjet leaves stealth mode, lowers its landing gear and makes a vertical descent.

The loading ramp at the back of the aircraft opens to reveal Nick, Bruce, Natasha and Clint. They debark in unison as Tony calls out, “It looks like we’re getting the band back together,” just then a crack of thunder alerts everyone to Thor’s arrival as well, his hammer in hand, bent on one knee as he lands on the ground.

Thor stands. His voice booms, “Friends. I am honored to join you in battle once again. May we all find righteous victory or glorious deaths!”

Tony reaches up and pats Thor on the shoulder, “Let’s dial back the death talk about a thousand notches, big guy.”

Thor stares, bemused at Tony’s hand on him. He chalks the contact up to another Midgardian custom he’ll need to learn to acquaint himself with, “The viciousness of Hydra is known throughout much of the nine realms and beyond. They are a foe not to be trifled with I assure you. Are they not the enemy you once faced, Captain Rogers?”

Steve nods, “That’s right, the Hydra loyalists are part of our problem but they’ve destabilized multiple regions all over the planet because of the all that tech that’s too dangerous to be any anyone’s hands let alone there’s.”

Nick steps down of the ramp and adds, “The 084s that are in play make the Chitari tech that’s hit the weapons market look like lawn darts.”

“084s?” Bruce asks as he nods a greeting to Steve and Tony.

A familiar voice from inside the aircraft answers, “It’s an old SSR designate—code for objects of unknown origin Typically, off-world tech.”

Tony and Steve look up. They’re both stunned.

“Hi guys!” Phil Coulson waves. “I promise didn’t intend to make a surprise entrance, those quinjet seatbelts are just tricky.”

“Agent Coulson?” Steve asks. He bounds up the ramp to give Phil a hug.

Phil actually blushes at that. Awkwardly but delighted he says, “Yep, it’s me. Cap.”

Tony just looks mildly perturbed. He asks Nick, “So is coming back from the dead just a thing now? First Steve and Barnes, then you, now Phil?” He doesn’t wait for Nick’s response. Instead he says to Phil, “The Portland Symphony received a memorial endowment in your name, by the way.” Tony is thrilled to see that Phil is alive and well though he has no interest in letting anyone else know that.

Phil is about to respond but Tony interrupts him. “You are actually alive right? You’re not an LMD are you? Or some sort of clone? I don’t do clones.” Tony looks around and says to no one in particular. “We are not doing clones. I want to make that clear. It’s a nonstarter.”

Clint just rolls his eyes, “He got stabbed. He flat lined. He’s alive again. After all we’ve seen in the last few years, it isn’t that hard to comprehend.”

“Clint’s got a point.” Natasha offers. 

“Thank you, Nat. I can always count on you to have my back.” Clint makes a pointed look at the rest of the team. “Now, can we move on to move on to catching the bad guys and securing the scary world-ending alien artifacts?”

Everyone shrugs in agreement and then looks to Steve, awaiting his response.

Steve pats Phil heartily on the back. “Glad to have you back Agent Coulson. Alright everyone, we’re going to break in to pairs to cover as much ground in DC and New York as quickly as possible. We’ll secure what we can that’s close to home…” Steve gives everyone their assignments and coordinates, pairing Tony with Bruce, Thor with Clint and Nick with Phil. After everyone is clear on what they’re setting out to retrieve Steve concludes, “Nat, you come with me. There’s a bank vault I need to check out.”


	11. CH 11 Horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve finds out what Hydra did to Bucky...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a vague description of injury but no specifics about torture beyond what we saw in the MCU.

Steve fixes his eyes on the chair in the center of the room. It’s empty but his mind is forcing him to see Bucky strapped in and facing unspeakable torture. The scream Steve hears isn’t a cruel trick of his imagination. It’s a memory. It’s THE memory of Bucky falling to his presumed death. _I should have jumped after him._

It’s not the first time Steve has had this thought. That regret. That guilt. It was what Steve carried with him as he forced Schmidt’s plane into the ocean. He doesn’t feel guilt now, though. He feels rage. He wants to hunt down every last member of Hydra and make them feel every shred of agony that any of them had a hand in causing Bucky over the last seventy some-odd years.

But what Steve wants and what he knows is the right aren’t always the same thing. The truth of that does nothing to lessen the fury that’s boiling under his skin.

“I gotta hand it to Hydra,” Steve hears Natasha say, “they certainly keep detailed records. This intel is going to help. I’m sure of it.”

Steve forces enough air into his lungs to ask, “What did they do to him?”

“Ever read about MK-Ultra in any of those history books you keep in your apartment?”

“CIA mind control program. Back in the 1950s?”

Natasha crosses the room and hands a file to Steve. No photographs. A blessing. The characters are in Cyrillic. “That’s right,” she nods. “The Americans used a combination of hypnosis and psychotropic drugs. The Soviets took a different approach. Instead of LSD they used electricity.”

Gutted, Steve asks, “They electrocuted him?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Natasha replies softly. “The chair erased existing data so Barnes couldn’t be compromised if he was ever captured.” What Natasha doesn’t say is that this information is not in the Hydra file she’s reading from, it’s KGB intel. She wonders how long it’ll take Steve to realize how much she actually knows about the Winter Soldier. She hasn’t lied to Steve, but there is so much about her past, and her past with the man she knew as James, not Bucky, that she hasn’t shared with anyone in her new life. Not even Clint knows the full extent of her time before joining S.H.I.E.L.D. 

Steve looks up, silently questioning.

Reading Steve’s expression Natasha answers, “He was too valuable an asset for a cyanide tab option. The chair rebooted him- a complete data erasure, they then used verbal commands to reprogram him. Finally, a primary handler would give him a mission to see through to completion.” More to herself than to Steve she adds, “Easy enough to replicate, it seems. Of course, this is way above my paygrade, but it could be a stop gap measure until Dr. Cho comes up with a more permanent fix.”

In a deadly-calm voice he sets his gaze on Natasha and says, “You’re not suggesting we put him back in that thing.”

She shrugs. “Considering his last mission was to kill you and me we may not have another choice than to use the chair.”

Steve is trying to process what Natasha has just said to him when suddenly he winces in pain. He looks down to see that he’s been clenching his fists so tightly that he dislocated his knuckles. He gingerly holds his hands up in front of himself, stunned.

Natasha carefully, takes hold of Steve’s wrists. “Christ Steve. We gotta get you to a medic.”

“You’ve tended to field wounds before.” Steve answers blankly, “Just fix them, will you.”

“Popping all your fingers back into place is going to hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, Steve.” Natasha warns. “We should have a professional take care of this.”

“I trust you.” Steve assures.

Something in Steve’s eyes breaks Natasha’s heart but her Russian nature bats away her emotion. She takes hold of Steve’s index finger and replies in a teasing voice, “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Steve grits his teeth as Natasha snaps each of Steve’s fingers back in to their joints.

“You’ll need splints.”

“I’m fine.” Steve checks his comms and surveys the thick walls of the bank vault. “But, I can’t get a signal in here. I’m going topside to call Pepper. We need retrieval team to take all this back to the Tower.”

After Natasha nods an affirmative Steve makes his way back up and out on to the street. He hangs a quick left into the alley, takes a few deep breaths and lets himself cry.


	12. CH 12 Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some changes come Bucky's way...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter I introduce Dr. Andrew Garner a SHIELD therapist who was a character on Agents of SHIELD. Other MCU folks will pop up but I'm not putting them in the tags b/c spoilers. :)

CH 12

Tony Stark had been true to his word. He’d put all of his resources and personnel at Dr. Cho’s disposal. Her own expertise along with the dozens of files about the Winter Soldier Program that Steve and Natasha had procured allowed Dr Cho to expedite a plan for Bucky’s physical recovery. She’d made tremendous progress in a relatively short time. But helping Bucky regain full control over his mind had proven to be unendingly complex. At present, the large, but fully vetted, team of specialists have yet to come to a consensus on how to safely deprogram Bucky. What they do know is that for decades Bucky had repeatedly been able to regain some degree of a sense-of-self despite the torture and brainwashing.

In fact, it was not until the 1980s that the Memory Manipulation Machine chair had first been put to use. It wiped Bucky’s mind and enabled the handlers to reprogram him in order to receive a mission from whomever was acting as his Primary. According to the files, even the chair wasn’t a permanent fix. Bucky could easily become destabilized if triggered with some sort of memory cue.

When Dr Cho first debriefed former SHIELD psychologist, Dr Andrew Garner, she’d gasped when she realized the true reason for the cryostasis. Her hand trembled as she held the file before her and said, “My god, they had to freeze Barnes because he never quit fighting to break free from the prison of his own mind. They were never completely successful at overwriting. The wipe didn’t actually erase him as the other files suggested, it trapped him.”

Dr Garner looked over a duplicate of the same file. Just as astonished he answered, “Part of his psyche was present the entire time. He knew what was being done to him and what they were making him do.”

Dr. Cho shook her head as she tried to make sense of the cruelty Bucky had endured.

“You know,” Dr Garner began, “I have worked with countless POWs and torture survivors in my career and not once did I ever think that a patient would have been better off dead, but this…”

Now, as Bucky awaits his daily session with Dr Garner he busies himself surveying the changes to his body. He looks in a reflective surface as he washes himself in the oversized water basin that materializes from within the rear wall of the containment cell. The arm is gone. As is the scarring. _Synthetic skin_ Dr Cho had called it. Bucky reaches up with his remaining hand and brushes over his smooth left shoulder. He then runs his fingers down his chest. The new skin produces goosebumps. Bucky shivers involuntarily. He’s been told that Stark has a new cybernetic design in the works and he’ll fit Bucky for his prosthetic when he and the Avengers return. Last Bucky had heard they were somewhere in Eastern Europe. Bucky is in no rush. The old prosthetic was a weapon and a constant reminder of how much pain and death he had caused. He shakes his head. He knows full well that every inch of his body is weapon. Even if he is actually starting to look like a person again.

The abdominal port is also gone. He’s not yet eating solid food but he’s drinking the formula now. He was wary at first, strangely nervous about experiencing flavors. Bucky does not trust pleasure. His handlers only ever offered it to him so they could take it away. Relieved, he finds the formula somewhat bland.

When one of Dr Cho’s interns first told him it was vanilla Bucky blurted out something from Before. In full 1930s Brooklyn swagger, Bucky rolled his eyes and barked a laugh, “Let me guess, it’s Steve’s recipe. Poor chump. Even chocolate is too exotic for him.” 

The confused and slightly terrified intern offered, “I can add some cinnamon if you’d like.”

“Don’t sweat it, kid. Food is food. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

Before and After make sense to Bucky now. He knows where he is and where he came from. But he doesn’t feel like he really belongs anywhere. Despite what Dr. Garner has told him, Bucky does not believe that he can ever reconcile who he was with what he’s become. His life is stained with blood. Blood that he spilled. It can’t be washed out.

And then there’s still the matter of his programming. Pierce, his most recent Primary of the last several decades, had ordered him to eliminate Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff.

“Can you explain it to me? This need you’re experiencing to fulfill your mission?” Dr. Garner had asked during Bucky’s first session.

“You smoke, Doc?”

“Thankfully, I never picked up the habit.”

“It’s more than a habit. I had to quit when Steve and I…” On instinct but without quite understanding why, he carefully rephrases his words, “When I moved in to Steve’s apartment to help out with the rent I gave up cigarettes because breathing didn’t come easy for him back then. It felt like the hardest thing I’d ever have to do. I was constantly chewing on pencils. My fingers always felt empty like I had to pick up something, but I’d forgotten what. It was worst when I was having a beer or taking my union fiver at the docks, or just after I… Everything I did made me want a smoke. Took it up again as soon as I got to the Front. When Steve showed up they’d fixed it so he could finally take two breathes without coughing up a lung.” Bucky shrugs absently.

“So, your programming, your mission, it feels like an addiction?”

“Maybe.” Bucky sighs, unsatisfied with his own metaphor, “It feels like I got a pack in my pocket. And a lit one already in between my lips and it’s taking every ounce of strength I have not to take a drag. It’s always there scratching inside my head. It never stops. No matter what I do or whatever else I remember. No matter how much Dr. Cho or you or anybody else tries to fix me. If you let me out of here before the scratching stops, I’m going to do it. As much as I don’t want to, I know I’ll complete my mission.”

He still feels that way. Steve and Natasha, as much as they are both something indescribably more, are still his targets first and foremost. Bucky gives himself one more quick glance in the reflection of the basin and then dries his hand on the legs of his pants before pulling a fresh white cotton shirt on over his head. It takes minimal trouble considering he is still getting used to his stump.

He takes a breath, sits on the bench and waits for Dr. Garner’s arrival via holoscreen. Bucky had insisted that he not be conscious whenever he is in the same room with anyone. Dr. Garner had tried to reason with him but ultimately the doctor had decided that letting Bucky have this initial victory, that letting him feel in control of the process, would be beneficial.

“Sergeant Barnes, Dr. Garner is on the line. Are you ready to begin?” JARVIS asks.

Bucky nods and tries not to tense up, “Yes, thank you.”

A floating video image of a distinguished looking, well dressed, African American man seated behind his office desk appears in front of Bucky. The man smiles. “It’s good to see you Bucky.”

“Hello.” Bucky replies. He knows he should exchange a more detailed pleasantry but he is still having trouble putting names to what he now understands to be emotions. This is not a mental block, Dr. Cho had explained. Rather, a lingering side effect of _previous procedures_ he’d undergone. Brain injury from the chair were the words left unsaid in her explanation.

“Would you like to recite our rules of engagement?” The doctor asks— a process he had established during their first meeting.

Bucky nods.

After a moment the doctor prompts, “Whenever you’re ready. Take your time.”

Nearly a minute passes before he begins. “I am talking with you voluntarily. You are here to help. You will give me recommendations that will help me cope with what I have experienced. You will not give me orders. I am not required to comply. I make the choices about what happens to my body and my mind. I am not an object. I am a person.”

The room is silent. The two men watch each other carefully through the screen. Finally, the doctor asks, “And as I have asked you each day, do you believe the statements you have just made are true?”

“No.”

Dr. Garner holds in a sigh, trying to hide his disappointment. But then, Bucky says something else. Something that gives Dr. Garner the first true indication that these sessions may not be futile. 

After the briefest pause Bucky finishes his answer with what Dr Garner swears is the slightest smile, “Not yet.”


	13. CH 13 A Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Coulson talks to Steve about something that's been bothering him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am trying to add some non-spoilery content from Agents of SHIELD into this fic b/c because it bothers me that the movies never acknowledged what happened in the show.

CH 13

For the first time in weeks Steve’s belly is well and truly full. He makes it a rule to not bring attention to the fact that typical rations only have about a quarter of the caloric intake he needs. Instead, he relies on specially formulated nutrition bars that he keeps stashed in the pockets of his tac-pants when out in the field. But thanks to Phil’s supply run, Steve is sated on a mountainous share of sausages, potatoes and asparagus. “Last time I was in the European Theater I certainly don’t remember eating this well, not even in the Officers’ Mess. Thank you, Coulson. You really went all out.” Steve pats himself on the stomach for dramatic effect.

“Hey, I just did the grocery shopping, Barton is the grill master.” Phil humbly replies.

Clint gestures a bow from his deck chair, “I’m no one trick pony. Slinging arrows is just one of my many talents.”

“It was great grub.” Sam agrees as Phil stands and starts clearing the table

Bruce gazes lazily at his view of the Swiss Alps and adds, “I’ll second that. Thanks again Barton.”

“No problem. There’s plenty more for when the others get back.” Tony, Thor, Rhodes and Natasha had all left earlier that day on an aerial recon mission to scope out a location for a possible cache of Asgardian weapons that Hydra had been hoarding. 

As Phil heads back inside the safe house through the patio door he asks, “Give me a hand with the dishes, Cap?”

“Sure thing. I’ll wash, you dry.”

As the two men set about cleaning up Steve says, “I’m really glad to have you back, Phil. We all are.”

Phil shrugs, “Thanks, but I shouldn’t be back.” When he notices Steve’s furrowed brow he quickly adds, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to be alive. It’s just…”

Steve sets down the spatula he’d been scrubbing and turns to Phil. Concerned, he asks “Just what?”

“I don’t have all the details. My file is beyond redacted, beyond classified. It doesn’t exist. Even with Romanoff’s data dump there’s nothing there about how Fury did what he did, but I know in my gut that he’s crossed a line.”

“Are you saying that you think Fury is compromised?” Steve is now visibly alarmed. His dish cloth is abandoned and his arms are crossed. His body thrums with tension.

“Not exactly.” Phil halfheartedly reassures, “Look, Fury was my Supervising Officer back in the 90s. And I’ve always known him to be a big picture guy. Perhaps, getting me back on my feet is part a plan that’s above my paygrade to understand. But think about it. You know as well as I do what kind of injury I had. I was basically an Asgardian shish kabob.”

Steve begins to catch on, “And you’re questioning why he’d go to such lengths to hide whatever tech he used to save you?” 

“That’s right.” Phil gravely nods, “He erased my file. Maybe to cover up how he helped me, maybe to cover up an iron he has in a fire that he doesn’t want anyone to know about. Either way, combine that with the kind of work I’ve been doing for SHIELD that past few years, knowing now Hydra has been pulling the strings has me questioning everything.”

Steve has been reeling ever since the night Fury first showed up in his apartment. Teaming up with the Avengers again had just started to help him to feel like he’s got his footing again. He knows that what he asks next will put him on uncertain ground once again. “And what have you been doing for SHIELD?”

“Clean up mostly. But I’ve also been working on the List, the Index. My team and I have been cataloging people with abilities— one of the first names on the List was Stark, then Thor, you, when you came out of the ice. And then after I came back we picked up speed. I thought that I was assessing potential threats and maybe scouting talent for possible new Avengers. But now that intel is out for anyone to see, countless people who are in anyway different might have a bullseye on them—because of me. SHIELD was started to protect people from threats too dangerous to comprehend.”

Sighing, Steve adds, “And it’s turned out that SHIELD may have been the biggest threat to us all.”

Coulson sets down the plate he’d been absently drying. “And people are going to want to hold us to account. We were part of it, Cap. We didn’t know it, but we’ve been working for HYDRA all along.”

“And Fury is still being tight lipped with what he knows. Pierce is dead.” Steve is at a loss. “Is there anyone else who has Level 10 clearance, someone who might be able to give us some answers?”

Coulson swallows hard then answers, “One person. A retiree who still gets sent weekly briefings.”

“Who?”

“Peggy Carter.”


	14. CH 14 Divide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve has had enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you'll see I'm crossing my fic with some canon events. I'm also making mention of MCU canon in nonspoilery ways 
> 
> Dr William Foster is from Ant Man and the Wasp and Jemma Simmons is from Agents of SHIELD she makes non-spoilery mentions of S2 post CAWS events.

CH 14

Steve watches. His body is tense and his arms are crossed over his chest as half dozen Stark drones corral two enhanced teenagers out of a Sokovian stronghold into a portable containment pod. His earlier conversation with Coulson still weighs heavy. He wants to talk to Peggy. Maybe she’ll have some answers, or at least some intel that can point Steve in the right direction, but she’s been having more bad days than good lately. Besides, he’s half a world away at the moment. Warily, Steve surveys the current situation. The boy and girl both seem terrified. Despite their powers, they don’t look like threats, at least not to Steve.

“Aren’t the leg restraints and straight jackets a bit much?” Steve says to no one in particular.

Maria Hill appears at Steve’s side, “You all weren’t here when they used their voodoo on Coulson’s advance team. The boy is fast, Steve. Really fast. And the girl is just weird. We actually had a veteran agent crying when the girl zapped everyone with whatever witchcraft she’s using.”

Steve sighs, not convinced. “They’re just kids.”

“Kids, who volunteered to let Hydra do experiments on them.” Maria reminds.

“They didn’t know Hydra was in control. No one did.”

Maria hears the thinly veiled accusation in Steve’s tone. “We all should have known long before we did. World War II never ended for Hydra. The battlefields just changed.” she volleys, laying a hint of blame back at Steve’s feet.

Steve knows she’s right. When he came out of the ice the one thing Steve clung to was that all the sacrifices his generation made had been worth it. Germany and the other Axis powers had been defeated. Hydra, the Third Reich’s science division, had been erased. But that was all a lie.

Resigned, Steve asks “Do we at least know where they’re being taken?” A young recruit of Coulson’s steps from behind the back row of drones. Her brown ponytail swings briskly as she walks up to Steve.

“We have a secure facility that’s state of the art. Fitz, my partner, made some modifications to Dr. William Foster’s original design for the containment pods. It now completely neutralizes one’s preternatural or enhanced ability. And just recently I oversaw an additional upgrade that makes the pods absolutely inescapable.” She pauses a second before adding. “Fitz and I discovered the structural flaw when we were um, in the field.”

Steve looks to Hill for an introduction but she’s walking away while giving him a gesture that reads as _you’re on your own, Cap_. He fails to remember the name of the woman talking to him so he asks. “I’m sorry, I’m still playing catch up getting to know everyone. You’re---”

She clumsily puts her starkPad away in her messenger bag and offers a hand, “I’m Jemma Simmons, biochemist, level five. Or should I say formerly level five? I am still at a bit of a loss regarding appropriate protocol now that SHIELD is gone.”

Steve futilely tries to answer but Jemma continues without taking a breath. She’s still shaking Steve’s hand. “And may I just say it is an absolute honor and privilege to meet you, Captain. I took a special topics course on Project Rebirth at the Academy. You are the result of an unprecedented scientific achievement.” She finally drops Steve’s hand and takes a step back to get a full view of him. “The photographs in my textbooks do you an injustice, sir.”

“I’ve never been particularly photogenic,” Steve offers with a shrug as he processes the flood of information Jemma has just given him. “This facility they’re being taking to, will they be there as they await charges?”

“Charges? I don’t follow your meaning?”

“You know, for prosecution? For a trial?” Steve asks even though he’s beginning to realize that one of his fears about the way SHIELD has been handling possible threats is coming to light. Just then Tony walks up.

“They’re enemy combatants, Steve.”

“Yes, that’s right” Jemma adds eagerly. “They’ll be held indefinitely.”

The pit of Steve’s stomach burns as he answers his own question. “Without due process.”

“We just catch the bad guys, Cap. Dealing with what happens to them next isn’t in our job description.” Tony replies despite knowing it’s not what Steve wants to hear.

“Securing democracy and freedom isn’t in our job description?” Steve is angry now. SHIELD is gone, Hydra is back and he honestly doesn’t know who or what he is working for.

Tony knows he should try to talk Steve down, mollify him at least, but his ego and own combative nature gets the better of him. “I’m pretty certain democracy wasn’t in Fury’s mission statement. Just something about fighting unbeatable fights? That’s what the Avengers is about. I think you might be mistaking yourself for that other guy from the comics. The one with the cape who flies. Wears a big S on his chest? Truth justice and the American way? Yada Yada…”

Steve gestures to the aftermath of their battle. “And you’re really okay with just packing up and not seeing this through?”

“Thor’s got Loki’s scepter. We all got to watch Banner smash the hell out of a bunch of neo-nazi scientists, we avoided getting our brains melted by that witchy chick and we’ve got reams of data from that stone to go through. I say it’s time to clock out for the day, Steve.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying that, Tony.”

“The sooner you realize that this is a job and not a lifestyle the sooner you might be able to get an actual life, Steve.” Tony doesn’t believe a word of what he is saying but Steve’s righteousness brings out the worst in him sometimes.

Steve has had enough. He’s spread too thin. Between being uncertain about SHIELD, worrying about Peggy’s decline and Bucky’s treatment Steve just doesn’t have anything left to give. Especially not if it means locking up kids who were just trying to defend their home. “I’m going to tell Fury I’m taking leave. Effective immediately. I can’t do this anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are welcome! What do you think so far?


	15. CH 15 Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Avengers' emotions run high without Steve...

CH 15

The problem with being a genius is that life has no surprises. Tony’s mind is like a chess board and he is always moving five steps ahead of the game. He saw this coming. This group, this team doesn’t work without Steve. In the past two and a half weeks since Steve left the tension has slowly, but steadily, been creeping in. And tonight, it’s close to coming to a boiling point.

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose trying to stave off the migraine that’s fast coming on. An after-dinner discussion is quickly becoming yet another argument. The close quarters of their current safe house is not helping to keep everyone’s emotions at bay.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t like when Ross did it to me, and I don’t like that we’re doing it to Steve. If he wants to go off-grid we shouldn’t be tracking his every move. He has more than earned a little privacy” Bruce asserts while doing his best to keep himself calm and measured.

“And what if we had let you go dark, Bruce. I wouldn’t have been able to find you when we needed your help to fight Loki” Natasha reasons. Her even tone belies her own mounting frustration.

“That’s right.” Tony agrees. He can’t help but add a snarky quip. “If you weren’t with us in New York, what’s left of the planet would speaking Chitari right now. Or is it Chitarish? Chitarese?”

“The Chitari communicate telepathically without what is commonly thought of as language,” Thor corrects. “But we should heed the Black Widow’s word. In Asgard, our first and last line of defense is Heimdall’s ever watchful eye. Earth would benefit from such a measure of security.”

“Maybe,” Clint concedes. “But I still say we what we do on our down time is nobody’s business but our own. Not SHIELD’s, not the Avengers'. Nobody’s. We give enough of ourselves as it is. And I, for one, don’t think we should have to give up our privacy when we don’t have a mission in play.” Clint glances at the holoscreen hovering near their dining table. The CCTV image displays the front door of the Veterans of Foreign Wars Post in DC where Steve has been bunking for the last several days. “I mean come on, do we really fucking care that Steve is choosing to hang out and play pinochle with his nonagenarian war buddies?”

Tony’s irritation is growing. “We sure as hell might if some more of these enhanced assholes decide to zap another village like the ones we’ve spent the last three days dealing with. Cap is our QB. I’m just the team Booster who designs and pays for our uniforms and gear. If he wants to bench himself that’s fine. But I’ll be damned if we can’t call him in to make the plays when we need him.” He taps on his watch and switches the display to a webcam on the desktop computer in the common area of the VFW. Steve is sitting on a worn sofa with a sketchpad in hand as a man that looks to be in his eighties or nineties across from him naps in an easy chair.

Bruce stands up. “Turn that off, Tony. What you’re doing right now is illegal.”

“Technically the Avengers operate outside of any global jurisdiction at the moment. There is no such thing as legal and illegal for us.” Natasha reminds. “We’re self-governing.”

“And Steve is our governor but he’s playing hooky at the moment.” Tony adds with more than a hint of vitriol. He zooms in the image in open defiance of Bruce’s order.

Clint sees that Bruce’s fists are now clinched. “Um Tony. Can we dial back poking a stick at Dr. Banner? Maybe switch back to the public CCTV street cam? You know, so we don’t all get smashed to bits?”

Embarrassed, Bruce huffs, “I wouldn’t---” Then he turns to leave the room and says, “It’s been a long day. I’m going to bed.

“It is too bad my mother is not here,” Thor opines. He attempts to soften his booming baritone voice and adds, “A warrior’s blood often runs hot. A soothing harmony spell would serve us all well.”

“No.” Tony insists. “We just need for Steve to quit pouting in time-out.”

Natasha is bored with the conversation. And more than exhausted from all the fragile, male emotions in the room. “Well Tony, you’re the one with all the money and connections and genius. Maybe you could use your billions and your brains to give Steve something he’d count as a win. If you offer him an olive branch even as a gesture. I’m sure he’ll take it.”

“I’m flattered, Rominoff, really. But even I don’t have connections put an end to extreme rendition at global black sites. I don’t have the kind of control. The Iron Man suit can’t redeem social conditions. It’s not a bell or whistle I’ve been able to crack as of yet.”

Clint stretches his arms over his head feeling the fatigue of the heated evening as well. “Stark. I’m pretty sure I have the least amount of power and probably the lowest IQ in the room. I mean come on, I fight with a bow and arrow for Chrissake. But there’s gotta be something on the table that you can give Steve. Anything.”

Tony takes a second to get his emotions in check. “Yeah. I do have a card or two left in my hand I can play.”

“These card you speak of?” Thor asks hopeful that he’s been able to keep up with the conversation, “They are Midgardian metaphors, are they not?”

Tony pats Thor on the shoulder. Tony knows, now, what he needs to do to get Steve back on active duty. “That’s right big guy. Go tell Banner to start packing. We’re headed back to Avengers Tower.”


	16. CH 16 Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve learns the truth...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As stated in the tags Steve is bisexual in this fic. While this is resolutely a Stucky story I do make mention, on occasion, of Steve's experiences with women. I wholeheartedly ship Steve/Bucky and I am as irritated as many of you are with the Russos' Endgame nonsense regarding Peggy. But I also think it's important to fandom to add a little bi representation and I hope I'll achieve that in an authentic, respectable way in this story. Thank you for your continued support. Comments are love. *hugs*

CH 16

Steve likes his routine. He relies on it. He needs it. Perhaps it’s because of all the uncertainty he faced in his young life when a cough could lead to pneumonia, or a turning a street corner could lead to yet another beating from a bully, or another medical bill could lead to his mother having to struggle to make rent. Or maybe his routine just reminds him of home with his mother’s hospital corners, cabbage stew dinners and Sunday morning mass. Sarah Rogers was nothing if not disciplined. Maybe it’s Steve’s comfort with routine, order and discipline that made him so well suited to military life, even before he could do more than just a few push ups without getting winded. And maybe this is why Steve feels so out of sorts now that he is on leave. He’s not quite sure what to do with himself.

Even if his brownstone apartment wasn’t still under repair from the spray of bullets through his living-room he wouldn’t have stayed there now that he’s back in DC. That building was owned by SHIELD and it’s still full of bugs he’s certain. Instead, Steve anchors himself to anything that feels familiar. The local VFW chapter welcomes him without question or fanfare. Even though they all know full well who he is, they treat him like any other veteran. The place feels safe. Comfortable. It helps Steve find some semblance of normality. And so, he gets on with establishing a routine without SHIELD or the Avengers.

It’s pre-dawn when Steve balances against a tree at the west end of the National Mall. He’s careful to properly stretch his calves and his quads before he begins his run. He takes a few deep breaths. Drops and does a few quick sets of pushups to get his blood moving and is about to set off on Lincoln Circle when he sees a familiar silhouette in the distance. Reluctantly he jogs forward then pauses to curtly say, “Agent Thirteen.”

“You can call me Sharon, you know.”

“Alright.” Steve answers. “Well then, Sharon, you can tell Fury that I have no interest in rounding up the gifted and enhanced for his Index. I didn’t sign up to be part of some sorta Gestapo. So if you don’t mind…” Steve begins to run off and he gets a few yards away before he hears Sharon call out.

“Captain, stop. I’m here about Peggy!”

Immediately Steve turns back. Terrified, he asks, “She’s not?”

“She’s hanging in there. She just needs to talk to you and she’s usually at her best early in the day. Last night at dinner she told me to bring you to her place first thing.”

Relieved but still confused Steve asks, “How do you know Peggy?”

“She’s my aunt. I’m surprised you didn’t put it together when you found out my real name.” Sharon offers.

Steve shakes his head. “That doesn’t track. Her brother died in the war.”

“Her older brother did, yes. But my grand-dad is was born in 1948. Aunt Peg’s father remarried after the war.”

Tension is forming in Steve’s neck, a side effect of the constant information overload he so often experiences.

“And I guess, your cover was classified? That’s why she never told me she had a younger sibling and a niece?”

“Eh, not really. We kind of have a rule not to talk shop. Different clearance levels and all. As for the family stuff, there was a lot of drama in those days. She was living, here, in the US by then and she wasn’t too happy with the fact that her father had married a friend of hers from Bletchley Park. I didn’t meet Aunt Peg until I reached out to her for an endorsement to get into the Academy. She kind of took me under her wing after that.”

Steve takes in what Sharon has said. He’s filled with questions. “So, when you were on my detail…”

“—and you asked me out for coffee? Yeah. A little awkward. Considering.” Sharon laughs nervously.

“Yeah,” Steve concedes, “Awkward is pretty much my natural state so at least there’s that.”

Sharon just rolls her eyes at Steve’s self-deprecating remark then says. “Come on, Captain. Let’s get you to her place. Aunt Peg will be up soon.”

***

Peggy is sitting up in bed. Her color is good and although it’s only 7:00 AM her hair is perfectly styled. She has a tea service on her side table and Steve pours her a cup. He adds milk and sugar before handing her the cup and saucer. “How ya’ been, Peg? I’m sorry I have been by sooner.”

“The doctors say I have some miles left on me. I plan to make the most of them.” Peggy answers with her signature confidence. “No more secrets, Steve. I’ve held on to them long enough, we all have. Besides, I’m level ten, even though I’m retired I still have the authority to declassify anything I deem necessary. That’s why I asked my niece to bring you here this morning.”

Steve nods. Peggy’s tone is resolute. It’s like they’re time traveling. He can almost see the Peggy he knew in the 1940s. “So, this is a business call?” Steve asks.

Peggy shrugs and with a slight smile she answers, “Well, you and I often found occasion to mix business with pleasure.”

Steve leans close to Peggy. Conspiratorially, he whispers, “I remember.”

Peggy sets down her teacup and takes hold of Steve’s hand. “Do you happen to recall the evening after the Zola extraction, when I found you in the rubble of the Whip & Fiddle?”

Even though Peggy’s nurse left the room minutes ago Steve still checks behind him to make sure they’re alone before answering, “Of course. That was the first night that we…” Steve stops and gets his emotions in check before stating, “Those last few weeks when I was hunting Schmidt, I wouldn’t have ever made it through that time if it weren’t for you.”

“When I told you that you wouldn’t have to complete your mission alone, I meant it. And I am glad that I could offer you some comfort as well. But, Steve. I have to confess.” Peggy pauses and knowingly she looks into Steve’s eyes. “That night at the tavern, I had every intention of stealing your heart. And I might have done, had you not already given it away.”

It takes Steve a second to catch up to what she’s saying. He doesn’t know how to respond. He’s never spoken about it with anyone, ever. The best he can do is ask, “You knew?”

“That you had lost more than a best friend? As lovely as you were with me during our time together it was evident you were nursing broken heart. I am a code breaker after all, I’d have had to be daft to not figure it out.”

Desperate Steve answers, “Aw, Peg, You have to know weren’t just a distraction for me. I swear it. What we shared, it was real for me.”

“I do, darling. It was real for me too.” Peggy assures.

“But you’re right. Bucky and I. We.” Steve tries but can’t finish. He’s lost his words.

Tears well in Peggy’s eyes, “I know. And that’s why I truly believed I was doing you a kindness when decided not to say anything about him when you came back. To tell you the truth about what SHIELD knew was too cruel, I thought. But now—”

“Wait, what? SHIELD knew about me and Bucky?”

Peggy shakes her head. Her voice is raw, gutted she admits, “No, we knew he was alive. I tried everything to arrange a rescue. But I was stonewalled. Outvoted. The Winter Soldier provided the necessary credible threat to ensure that defense funding would always be available to Stark Industries, Pym Technologies and by extension SHIELD.”

Steve feels like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs. His mind races as he tries to piece together all of what Peggy has said with what he knows about all that had been done to Bucky over the years. Finally, Steve musters the courage to ask, “When did you find out that he was alive?”

Quietly Peggy answers, “I discovered the files in 1987. Pym got a positive ID on him on a mission in '68. They kept it from me because they knew I'd insist on a rescue. But after I found out, the Winter Soldier went dark again until the night he crossed off Howard and Maria. There were no more confirmed sightings after '91. But when he took out the Starks it was as if he wanted to get caught. The injuries made it look like and accident but he killed them in front of a CCTV camera." 

Steve can tell Peggy has more to say. "What is it, Peg?" 

"The camera always bothered me. He shot out the lens. But he didn't infiltrate the facility to retrieve the security footage. The only reason I reckon he would do that is that something inside him was asking for help. Was trying to get someone to stop him. And if that's true. It means Sgt. Barnes knew what he was being forced to do all those years. It's just too horrific to imagine. It's why I haven't said anything to you until now. But when I received the report that he showed up at your apartment to take out Fury I knew that you had to know." Peggy grasps both of Steve's hands and holds them tight in her own. "I'm telling you now that your Bucky, he's... it's possible... somehow deep inside himself he's managed to hold on all these years. It's possible the two of you could get a second chance to live the lives that the war took from you both."


	17. CH 17 Solution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony has a plan...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eep! I'm very excited to post this chapter. I've been trying to draw on canon information presented in the MCU from Iron Man through Winter Solider as fodder for a new story. Hopefully I'm offering some fun surprises for you that make sense and are in character. Let me know what you think! I really hope your enjoy reading!

CH 17 Solution

“We’ve been looking for a solution in the wrong places,” Tony exclaims. He taps furiously on his StarkPad then throws a series of holo-documents written in both German and Russian up into the air. “Jarvis, can you do the honors?”

“Of course, sir. Translating into English now.” The documents, now easily readable to the team along with Dr. Cho and Dr. Garner, continue to hover in front of them.

Bruce breaks the silence. “This really isn’t my discipline, Tony. You wanna explain?”

“What? Your seven Ph.Ds aren’t helping, Dr. Banner?” Tony quips. Bruce just shrugs so Tony gestures wildly and continues in a nearly manic tone “We’ve been trying to science out the problem with Barnes’ brain. Psychology, neurology. All that jazz. When the whole time we should have been trying to pull a rabbit out of a hat!”

Clint sighs and points to himself, “Lowest IQ in the room, remember? Can you dumb it down for me, Stark?”

Still speaking at almost lightening speed, Tony wipes the documents out of the air and positions 3D, revolving holo-images of Loki’s scepter and the tesseract in front of everyone. “Okay, we’ve all taken 10th grade history. We know WWII. Schmidt’s technological innovations and experiments were powered in large part by the his groovy little cosmic cube-“

“Right,” Dr Garner affirms. “And it was recovered by your father and the SSR when he was searching for Captain Rogers’ presumed remains.”

“Exactly.” Tony nods. “For the last few months though, we’ve been operating under the assumption that Barnes’ programming had solely been the result of Soviet era, psychotronic mind control. But what if the Germans had already planted the seed when he was first held captive with the rest of the 107th?”

Dr. Cho leans forward, “So your suggesting the reason we have not been able to precisely understand his memory compartmentalization is because it isn’t the result of the chair?”

Thor is the first to put the pieces together that Tony has laid out. “He’s been under sway the tesseract. It is possible, yes. My father hid it on Midgard millennia ago. He feared its power was too great. The stone at its core contains immeasurable energy. Even greater than that which is embedded in the scepter’s jewel. It stands to reason that the temporary effects the scepter causes are exponentially greater in the tesseract.”

“So, it’d take a lot more than a right hook to snap someone out of the cube’s control.” Natasha reasons.

“Exactly.” Tony smiles, glad that people seem to be understanding him, finally. “And based on the files and the work our crack team of science guys and gals have been doing with Barnes, it seems the tesseract has warehoused his mental autonomy. That’s why Hydra has basically been able to use him as their own personal meat puppet for the better part of a century.”

Bruce stands up and circles around the 3D images. After a moment he asks. “So, what do you propose we do?”

Tony stands, walks up to Bruce and in a self-satisfied motion he pats Bruce on the shoulder. “We use some Asgardian magic to break Barnes out of his mind prison.”

Rhodey nods, “Those Sokovian asshats were able to hack in to scepter. I don’t see why you couldn’t do the same with the tesseract.”

“Neither do I” Tony agrees, “And if they could turn those orphans into the Wonder Twins with it, I don’t see why we can’t patch up the Sergeant.”

Sam takes a deep breath. He’d stayed with the team to be Steve’s eyes and ears. He decides he has to ask, “You really think Steve is going to sign off on this?”

“You tell me,” Tony volleys back. “The Captain and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms at the moment.”

“Yeah well, I don’t see you mending any fences anytime soon if you fry his best friend’s brains with a bunch of ancient alien artifacts.” Sam replies.

“Maybe we don’t leave it up to Steve.” Natasha asserts. “It’s Barnes’s mind. I say the choice is his.”

***

Dr. Cho commands a medic drone to inject Bucky with a mild stimulant to bring him out of his sedation. She and Dr. Garner agree that he must not be chemically altered in any way when he’s asked to give consent to the unorthodox procedure that Tony has planned.

Bucky sits up. He’s suddenly much more alert and aware of his surroundings in the containment cell. He listens carefully as Dr. Garner explains Tony’s plan. Dr. Cho makes clear the risks and Dr. Garner nods and repeats that it’s impossible to predict an outcome. “And we always have the work we’ve been doing together as another option. With more cognitive behavioral therapy and impulse control training you could very well be able to achieve an acceptable level of recovery. One where you won’t feel the need to remain in incarceration. It’ll take some time but I really think our method is the best opt---”

“No.” Bucky quietly interrupts. “I trust Tony. I came to him for help. I will do what he says.”

Dr. Garner sighs. “He’s not your Primary, Bucky. You don’t have a handler. You can make your own choices. You have free will, remember? We’ve talked about this.”

Dr. Cho offers Dr. Garner a sympathetic glance then adds, “Bucky you do understand that we have no way of even beginning to speculate the possible physiological ramifications of using um, ‘off-world’ technologies to heal your injuries?”

“Yes. I understand. Zola used the tesseract to do this to me. Tony wants to use it to abort my mission. I can’t see Steve as long as I have my mission.”

“Bucky—” Dr. Garner tries but Bucky cuts him off.

“I appreciate your help Dr. Garner. And I want to continue to work with you. The tesseract isn’t going to erase what I’ve done. And I’m going to have to figure out a way to live with it.” Bucky instinctively does a self-inventory. He’s become better at assessing his emotions when he connects them to his physical condition. “I think… I think what I am feeling these days is guilt… It hurts in my chest and in my abdomen.”

“I know. And you’ve come so far.” Dr Garner replies.

“I haven’t come far enough. I’m not well enough to see Steve.” Bucky’s chest tightens more and he’s beginning to have trouble breathing. This isn’t guilt, it’s grief. It’s longing. It’s an aching need. “If I’m going to have a life, I need him in it. Tell Tony I want to go with his plan.”

***

Steve rummages through the kitchen cabinets of the VFW hall searching for a can opener. It’s his turn to make lunch for the fellas and Douglas, a lance corporal who served on the 38th Parallel, has a craving for fried spam. Steve, for one, has been more than happy to avoid canned, processed meat product ever since he came out of the ice. But he does understand how food from a person’s childhood has a certain, nostalgic appeal. And after all, protein is protein. He’s about to open another drawer in search of the utensil when his phone dings a text alert. The message is from Tony. Steve contemplates not swiping it open but curiosity gets the better of him. The message simply reads, “Come home. I fixed him.”


	18. CH 18 An End and a Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve finally gets to see Bucky again. But also, drama.

CH 18

If Tony were keeping count, he’d know that he’s checked his watch three times in the last minute. His patience is getting the best of him as he stands alongside Happy in the Avengers Tower garage awaiting Steve’s arrival.

Happy, never one to be comfortable with prolonged silence, says, “I gotta tell ya’, Boss. You really swung for the fences with your plan to deprogram Barnes. Using the relics, getting that witchy girl to help? And as an afterthought at that. What if it hadn’t worked? What if Captain Rogers’ friend ended up even more messed up than he already had been?”

Tony may or may not have checked his watch a fourth time. According to his GPS tracker Steve should be pulling up any now. “But it did work out. I scored a home run with bases load. As usual. Have you not been paying attention all these years? Or are you starting to lose faith in me?”

Immediately, Happy backpedals. He knows Tony is teasing him but nonetheless he replies, “Ah, you know I always put my chips on you. It’s the safest bet there is.”

“You’re a smart man, Happy. A smart man.” Tony reassures with bravado even though he knows full well he got incredibly lucky having just taken one of the very biggest gambles of his life. “Oh but from now, on she’s not that “witchy girl” her name is Wanda and her brother Pietro are now officially my juvenile wards. I am a billionaire superhero after all. It’s on brand.”

Happy shakes his head and with an impressed chuckle he says, “I still can’t believe you convinced the State Department and the WSC to grant them refugee status and give you custody.”

Tony shrugs, “Eh, I just did some gladhanding and made a few deposits into about a dozen different swiss bank accounts. Those do-gooder attorneys from Hell’s Kitchen worked out the details.” He silently hopes that his actions impress Steve as much as they have Happy.

“You also convinced uh, Wanda, to help you with Barnes. Your negotiation skills will never cease to amaze me.”

“Sometimes I amaze myself.” Tony admits. He thinks back to his trip to the Raft. The girl was locked in a cell and confined in a straight-jacket. Her brother had been housed on another floor. It actually made the whole process easier. It was the girl Tony needed. After all, it was her ability to mind read and her connection to the jewel in the scepter that was the key to successfully deprogramming Bucky.

His pitch had been simple. “You help me, I’ll help you, kid.”

“My name is Wanda, I am a human being despite what you might think. Call me by my name, Mr. Stark.” Wanda asserted.

Tony genuinely admired her strength and confidence. He said as much. “I like spunky women, Wanda. So what’dya say. Do we have a deal?”

“Even if I agree to your proposition, why would you trust me? Your government says Pietro and I signed up to be terrorists.”

“You’re not a terrorist. But you are enhanced,” Tony explains. “Just like me.” He taps on the arc reactor in his chest for emphasis. “And this is just me spitballing here but I’d venture to guess you let those Hydra fellas do that to you because you needed the power to protect yourself and the people you care about.”

“We didn’t know they were Hydra. But yes. We wanted to protect ourselves from you, Mr. Stark. Do you know what your weapons did to my family? To my entire neighborhood?” Wanda steps closer to the glass of the cell so she can look Tony directly in the eye.

Tony nods. Quietly and simply he answers. “Yes. And if you let me, I want to make reparations. But we also both gotta read the room. In this world, you’re either an asset or a liability.”

“And which are you?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out.” Tony is surprised by his own earnest response. “But I’ll be honest, Wanda. You and your brother kind of freak me out.”

“And so again, I ask. Why would you trust me to help you?”

“Because I am playing the long game and history tells me that it’s the smart play. Someone once could have used my father’s help. Dad was only thinking short term. That someone ended up killing him. I’d prefer you and your brother not put me six feet under whenever you get the chance.”

Tony is shaken back into the present when he hears the parking garage door open. He and Happy turn to see Steve riding up on his motorbike. He stops, dismounts and in a deliberate move to avoid making eye contact Steve walks directly to the building entrance. He offers no greeting. Instead he firmly states, “Take me to him.”

***

The ride in the elevator is awkward. The three men stand shoulder to shoulder watching the floor numbers light up as they rise. Steve’s gut is in knots. He’s afraid if he knows any of the details about what Tony has done he wont be able to control himself. Finally, the need to steel himself before he sees Bucky makes Steve ask, “Did it hurt? What you did to him?”

“He’s got a nasty hangover from undoing over half a century of mind control. But the procedure itself? He had no physical pain.” Tony’s disappointed in himself for his flippant tone.

“No physical pain.” Steve repeats, pointedly.

“He’s still got a long road ahead of him, but now that you’re home—” Tony begins.

Steve cuts in, “I’ll talk with his doctors about what’s best for his recovery.”

When the doors open Steve silently looks to Happy for directions.

“First door on the left, Captain.” Happy offers before giving Tony a conciliatory gesture.

Tony gets the hint and he and Happy stay behind by the elevator door as Steve walks down the hall.

Steve opens the door to find a fully equipped recovery room. Bucky is sleeping on an exam table while Dr. Cho reads scans on her StarkPad.

“Doctor? How is he?” Steve asks in a low voice.

The smile on her face relieves Steve beyond measure. “Better than I had hoped.” Dr. Cho assures, “He was a bit disoriented after Stark’s um… procedure and from whatever he had the Maximoff girl do. But both Dr. Garner and I are hopeful about his prognosis. He was in relatively good spirits before he indicated his need to rest.” 

Steve crosses his arms over his chest and worries his lip between his teeth. He has so much he wants to say, to ask. But from the flurries of texts he’d exchanged with the doctors upon receiving the message from Tony he knows that Bucky had made the choice to go ahead with Tony’s plan despite his doctors’ reservations.

Dr. Cho senses Steve’s unease. “Mr. Stark told us that it was the backdoor Selvig had the ability to put in the generator, despite having been under Loki’s sway during New York, that gave him the idea. And to be honest, the only plausible explanation for all the conflicting documentation regarding Sgt. Barnes’ memory loss and intermittent retrieval over the years is that the initial coercive persuasion was made possible through means beyond what we know to be possible on this planet.”

Steve nods, only having half heard Dr. Cho. “Just as long as he’s okay.” He says.

“We have every hope that he will be.” Dr. Cho assures.

It is then that they both see Bucky begin to stir.

“Is someone there?” Bucky asks. The bright lights of the room hurt his eyes. His mouth is dry and he’s groggy. His head aches but for the first time in ages the scratching is gone. He has no mission. It’s unsettling. He’s unmoored. He needs an anchor.

Steve goes to Bucky’s side “Hey there, Buck.”

Bucky sits up and balances himself with his new prosthetic. He’s still getting used to the lighter model. Slowly he takes in his surrounds. His eyes meet Steve’s.

Steve can see the confusion on Bucky’s face. He hesitantly he asks, “Do you know me?”

“You’re Steve.” His mind is swirling. Before and After are realigning and fighting over the vacuum that was once filled by his mission. And as what has begun to regularly happen whenever he wakes up, Bucky is hit with all the memories of what he has done. The familiar pain in his chest and gut have almost become a comfort. Guilt is something he can rely on. But now, as he sees Steve standing in front of him Bucky feels something else. It’s not pain. But it still hurts. It’s a good hurt. Though he’s not sure how that’s possible. Whatever this feeling is, he’s certain he doesn’t deserve it.

Steve is flooded with too many emotions. He needs to be sure that Bucky really is himself again— as much as he can be considering the decades of trauma he’s endured. “Buck,” Steve asks again, “Do you know who I am?”

Bucky’s smile is sad and tired when he says, “Yes. You’re everything.”

“I could say the same about you.” Steve replies. A hint of their old banter sneaking through, “How do you feel? The doctor said you had a pretty bad headache.”

Bucky’s words come easily now, as if who he once was still existed. “Actually, I’m kind of hungry. But I think I might chuck my lunch off the Brooklyn Bridge if they give me anymore of that vanilla formula.”

“We could grab a couple dogs at Nathan’s.” Steve offers.

“That place is still open?” Bucky asks.

Steve nudges Bucky’s shoulder with his own. “We’re not the only things that’ve lasted a hundred years.”

“Alight then,” Bucky says. “But you’re buying.”

***

Minutes later, after Bucky dresses and Dr Cho administers his meds, they leave the recovery bay to find Tony waiting in the hall. Bucky stops and offers his hand. “Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. I’m in your debt. Whatever you need. Just let me know, like we said. I’ll be ready.”

Tony shakes Bucky’s hand. “I know you will, Sgt. Barnes. I’m glad to see you’re feeling like your old self.”

“Buck?” Steve asks. “Go get the elevator will ya? I’ll catch up.”

When Bucky is out of earshot Steve asks Tony, “Did you know?”

Instantly, Tony feels a pit in his stomach. He knows exactly what Steve is asking. “There were journals, I overheard a conversation when I was a kid. But I—”

“They knew. Your father. Hank Pym. But they didn’t lift a finger to save him.”

Tony sighs, “It’s fucked, I know. But there’s no way they could have known there was anything left of him to actually save. As far as the world intelligence community knew whomever he was had been turned into a weapon. My old man and Pym were trying to preserve his legacy. Your legacy. You were heroes.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Stark.” Steve grits out through his teeth. “You all relied on ghost stories about him to sell your bombs and make your money.”

Tony shakes his head, “I swear to you, it wasn’t like that. Not for me, anyway.”

“But you’ve known, for years. And you never thought to tell me.”

Tony just looks at Steve. His eyes pleading for him to understand.

Steve can’t take it. All he feels is betrayal. He rears his shoulder back and is about to throw a punch that will send Tony flying across the room. But suddenly, Bucky is by his side. He grabs hold of Steve’s arm before he can swing. “Steve stop,” Bucky pleads, “he had every right to kill me. I practically asked him to do it. But he didn’t. He saved me instead.”

“He gambled with your life so he could experiment with those relics.” Steve argues.

“You can’t really think, I’d do that.” Tony scoffs.

Steve gently shakes himself free from Bucky’s grasp and turns back to face Tony head on. “I think you knew I wouldn’t allow it, and that’s why you didn’t even bother to text me until afterwards. It’s always one secret after another with you.”

Tony’s getting increasingly frustrated. He shouldn’t have to explain himself. Everything worked out. The ends justify the means. No question. And frankly Tony’s just about at his wits end with Steve constant holier than thou attitude about everything. Despite knowing better Tony finds himself replying. “It’s not like you haven’t kept a pretty big secret of your own for, oh what, your entire life?” He smugly looks at Bucky and then back to Steve. It’s a shit move. Tony knows.

Steve just sighs. He does not care what Tony, or anyone else thinks. Not anymore. “There’s a difference between keeping a secret and keeping something private. But if you’re implying what I think you are that’s all the more reason you should have called and talked to me about the plan you cooked up.”

Bucky carefully takes hold of Steve’s hand with his prosthetic, “It was my choice. I knew the risks, and I figured the procedure was either going to work or it was going to kill me. I was ready for either option. I couldn’t live the way I had been anymore.”

“But, Bucky—" Steve cuts in.

Bucky continues, “— I asked Stark not to tell you until after. Even with my swiss cheese brain, I remember enough to know you’d have never okayed it.” Bucky’s soft, serious tone lightens when he adds, “I remember what an idiot you can be.”

Steve chuckles despite his otherwise sour mood. “I guess that makes us quite the pair.”

Bucky squeezes his hand a little and the replies. “Guess so, so are you gonna buy me lunch or what?”

“I’ll have Happy bring the car around for you.” Tony tries.

“No.” Steve replies coldly. “You’ve done enough, Tony. Goodbye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued support! Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Sexy times are coming soon!


	19. CH 19 Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve and Bucky get lunch and catch up...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took an angsty-er turn than I'd plan but I think it's a necessary bit in order to move forward. Comments are appreciated. Lots of Steve/Bucky specific chapters ahead.

CH 19

Despite the fact that Nathan’s Hot Dogs has literally dozens of locations throughout the five boroughs, Steve opts to take Bucky to the original stand they used to go out to on the boardwalk at Coney Island. They mostly keep quiet during the seventy minute ride south on the F Train. But it’s not an awkward silence— in fact it’s anything but. Both Steve and Bucky slide back into the easy routine of sitting next to each other on the subway, their hands resting on the seat with their fingers discreetly linked together. It was a thrilling, taboo risk when they were boys, touching each other that way. It was also the beginning of so much more. It was the beginning of a literal connection that pain, death, and two centuries hasn’t been able to break.

Steve nods to the door when the train reaches their stop. They deboard and continue to walk in silence each taking in the cool, sea breeze. Most of the shops are closed for the season and the boardwalk is empty except for the occasional runner. When they get to the stand Steve orders six dogs and two bottles of water. He tells the cashier, “Keep the change.”

“Thanks, Cap!” The cashier answers brightly.

Steve smiles wearily. He hasn't been able to get used to being recognized nearly everywhere he goes.

“Still famous, I see.” Bucky teases as he sits down on a nearby park bench. “Maybe you could hire me to be your bodyguard. I’ve got some experience in that line of work.”

Steve senses the darkness in Bucky’s joke but he opts to ignore it at least for the time being. Instead, he replies as he hands Bucky a hot dog, “Don’t know if I need a bodyguard. A shoe shiner maybe. We’ll see.”

Bucky shakes his head, “Good to know that your advanced age hasn’t made you any less of a punk.”

“It’s a skill I’ve got on reserve.” Steve chuckles as he unwraps his own dog. “And who knows, the serum could’ve even amped it up some.”

“God help us.” Bucky groans.

Steve laughs broadly at his response while Bucky takes a bite of the hot dog. The bread and meat taste how he remembers and the salty tang of the ketchup is what he expects. But, the consistency of the food in his mouth is strange. It’s been so long since he’s actually eaten that the texture of it just feels wrong.

Steve notices Bucky’s grimace. “Not good?”

“No. It’s fine. I just think maybe I should have eased off the formula before going straight for street food.”

“I can get you something else,” Steve offers. He tries to hide how disappointed he is that he hasn’t been able to give Bucky an enjoyable meal. It’s just a hot dog but it’s also a touchstone to their past in Brooklyn before the war, the serum, or Hydra. “There’s not a lot open but I think the bodega down at the end of the boardwalk does business year-round.”

“I’m good. I can make due for a day or two more. They fucked my metabolism but sometimes it comes in handy the way my body processes nutrition.”

“Naw,” Steve lightly argues. “You said you were hungry. We’ll find you something. Worst case a protein shake. You ever heard of kale? The 21st Century has so many foods that I never knew existed before I came back.” He pops the end of his hot dog into his mouth and stands, gesturing for Bucky to join him.

“Okay. As long as you finish your lunch. No reason you should go hungry on my account.” Bucky answers. He tosses the hot dog into a garbage can then stuffs the unopened water bottle into his jacket pocket before trotting up to fall in step with Steve’s quick stride.

Steve shrugs and grabs another hotdog out of the bag. Though he’s used to having to eat extra-large portions, he’s surprised by how hungry he actually is. And gosh, he sure does love Nathan’s. He’s half way through the dog and already thinking about eating the next when Bucky brushes his hand lightly on the back of Steve’s arm.

“How was it? Coming back?” Bucky asks. He pauses then, debating what to say next. They’re not going to be able ignore it, what happened. And Dr. Garner says speaking with authentic purpose is good for him. So he says, “I did some intel after the hellicarrier and the river. The Smithsonian was impressive, but you didn’t do any interviews. Everyone else had plenty to say.”

“Honestly?” Steve sighs. “That first year felt like I was in some weird dream. Our old neighborhood is unrecognizable, not that I could afford to live there. Everything is loud and too bright. I ended up keeping to myself… well, mostly. I tried to find spots that didn’t make me like I was from outer space. And then, after aliens from actual outer space showed up, suddenly I’m back in the suit. And everyone knows me. I went from feeling invisible to having a spotlight on me where ever I go.” If he’d said this to anyone else it’d sound like he’s feeling sorry for himself. But he’s always been able to talk to Bucky. He’s relieved that he still can, despite everything.

“But you have your team, right?” Bucky asks. He’s concerned. Even though he’s still relearning how to interpret and name his own emotions he knows melancholy when he sees it. And this isn’t the first time he’s seen it on Steve. “Your work, protecting people. All that has to make you feel like you belong.”

Steve grabs one more dog then tosses the bag along with the bottle into a nearby garbage can. “I guess. Things just aren’t black and white like they used to be in our day. We knew who the bad guys were back then. Now, it’s complicated.”

Bucky almost snorts. “Well at least some things haven’t changed. You’re still as dramatic as you used to be.”

“That’s exactly what Peg says,” Steve admits. Okay. Maybe he is feeling a bit sorry for himself. 

Bucky’s quiet for a moment as he searches for the right words. The museum exhibit had been, in a word, revelatory. He settles on saying what he feels even if it does sting a bit. “I’m glad she was there for you, after.” He begins, knowing he doesn’t have to be more specific in his comment. “And I’m glad you still have her in your life. It must have been a relief to reconnect with her when you came back.”

Steve rushes to assure Bucky, “You know she and I never… not when you and I were still…”

“Of course, I know,” Bucky answers, mildly irritated that Steve felt he needed to state what Bucky knows is true. Steve Rogers is not the sort of person who’d step out on someone, not ever.

“But yeah, she made it as close to bearable it could be without you.” Steve replies in a whisper. “And I need to get back to DC soon. I’m not sure how much time she has left. The last time I spoke to her it seemed like she was mustering the courage to say goodbye.”

Steve shouldn’t have to endure any more loss, but Bucky knows that’s the hand they’ve both been dealt. He resolves to be there for Steve as best he can. After all, Agent Carter is the one constant Steve has had in his life for the last few years from before and Bucky wants him to have that as long as possible. “What’d ya’ say we get some provisions and billet in one of the vacation homes on the beach for the night? Then we can head down to DC in the morning.”

“Billet?” Steve asks. His tone is full of disapproval. “You mean break and enter.”

“No,” Bucky responds. He feigns irritation but he’s actually quite glad that Steve is as much the boy scout as he ever was. “I mean billet. You know, temporary military occupation of a civilian domicile or structure. And trust me, there will be no breaking. Need I remind you, I managed to get into Avengers Tower without tripping a single alarm, and that was while my brain was still all scrambled.”

Steve’s more playing the role of do-gooder, than actually resisting. Again, it’s that easy pre-war routine that was always at the core of their relationship. Bucky being a bit of a mischievous, not quite, scoundrel. Steve being a by-the-book sort, except when it caused him more trouble than good, then he’d throw the book clean out the window. It’s who they were and it’s who they still are. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea, Buck.”

Pressing the issue, now more out of principle than anything else, Bucky asks, “You’d rather have Captain America rent a room at the Seaside Motel with his boyfriend?”

Steve can’t resist taking up the challenge. “So, what if we did? It’s not like it was before. People like us can have lives together.”

“I know, JARVIS has been catching me up on things. And it seems that sort of thing still comes with a price.” Bucky’s mood is becoming sullen. He’s feeling that familiar pain in his gut again.

Steve stops and takes Bucky’s hand in his. “I’d pay that price to be with you. To not have to hide like we used to.”

Bucky looks into Steve’s eyes for a second before he states, in as clear a voice as he can muster, “I’m ashamed of so much. Of all the things I’ve done that I can never make right. But I’ve never been ashamed of what I am. And that’s because from the start, when we were just kids it helped me care for you, protect you, love you like you deserve to be loved. But, Steve. I won’t do anything to that’ll put your reputation at risk, not then, not now, not ever. I saw the looks on the faces of all those people at the museum. Your legacy is bigger than just you or me. What you represent belongs to everyone.”

Steve rests his free hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I hear what you’re saying and I get it. But don’t you think there are people like us who’d benefit from knowing that they’re not alone? Captain America could be the symbol it’s meant to be. A symbol that proves we all belong.”

Bucky lets himself indulge in the feel of Steve’s hands on him. It’s been so long since someone has touched him without causing him pain. He wants to agree with Steve, and if things were different maybe he would. It’d be easy to just go along and not have to deal with Steve’s stubbornness. But he can’t do that. Not after everything he’s done. “You’re right Steve. Captain America is a symbol. And maybe the world is ready to look up to someone who’s a queer. Or whatever the right word is these days, But Steve, do you really think the world will let you carry the shield and wear the suit if they find out you’re in love with a killer? A killer you’re just letting walk free?”


	20. CH 20 Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve and Bucky spend their first night together in over seventy years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the chapter some of you have been waiting for. A little sexy and a lot hurt/comfort. You've been warned.

CH 20

Steve looks at Bucky as they stand together on the boardwalk. He sees the pain, the exhaustion and the fear that Bucky’s carrying and it hits Steve that it’s not even been a full day since Bucky’s mind has been his own again. He realizes that leaving the Tower and the doctors may not have been the best idea– not without a plan. Steve also has to deal with fact that there is no easy path towards clearing Bucky’s name. Trust is in short supply all across the globe with so many Hydra loyalists still out on the loose. And Fury has made it clear that what’s left of SHIELD will be locking up any potential threats and throwing away the keys. Innocent until proven guilty is no longer part of anyone’s standard operating procedure.

All Steve can do now is reassure Bucky. He’ll protect him. As long as they’re together, they’ll be safe. “Bucky, what Captain America is or what the title should stand for doesn’t matter to me right now. Neither do the Avengers or SHIELD, any of it. Your safety and your recovery are my only priorities.”

Bucky wants to put on a brave face. It’d be so easy to just rely on banter, to crack some jokes, to make a few bravado-filled smart remarks that’d show Steve he doesn’t have to worry. But honestly, Bucky just doesn’t have the energy. Instead he sighs, “But you have a life, a team. Hell, a family. Stark said it himself, he fixed me to help you. And I remember, I saw your friends in action. They really do have your back. For you to give all that up? I don’t know if I’m worth all this, Steve.”

Steve takes a breath. He remembers how he’d recklessly minimized Bucky’s heavy mood after the Azzano rescue. Steve had been so gung-ho to get back out in the field with the Howling Commandos he didn’t stop for a second to consider the possibility that Bucky was most likely shellshocked from having been held captive. He should have insisted that Bucky put in for a medical discharge. As a POW he’d more than earned a ticket stateside at the very least. Instead, Steve practically dared Bucky to follow him back out into the ‘jaws of death.’ Now any way Steve slices it, he is the one who is responsible for what happened to Bucky. But this isn’t the time for that conversation. It’d only ease Steve’s guilt. It’d do nothing for Bucky. So instead, Steve says, “What you did all those years. It wasn’t you. You didn’t have a choice.”

“I know.” Bucky quietly responds. He chews on the inside of his cheek favoring the physical pain he can control over the emotional pain that he can still barely process. “But I did it.”

“Look Buck, I can’t even begin to imagine all you’re going through. But the one thing we have in common is that the war stole the lives we were supposed to have. The way I see it we gotta figure out a way to move on. Otherwise, we both should have died in ’45. I know it won’t be easy. And truth be told, I could probably use help from someone like Dr. Garner too. But at least we’re together. Nothing will change that. I promise.”

Bucky pulls Steve in for a hug, holding tight and burying his face into Steve’s neck. In a whisper, Bucky replies, “I promise too.”

***

They decide to go ahead with Bucky’s suggestion to get some groceries and then sneak into one of the beach houses that are closed up for the season. Bucky makes quick work of picking the lock while Steve, who’s admittedly a bit nervous, keeps watch for any off-season residents who might see them. But once inside they’re both happy to find a cozy, two bedroom bungalow with hardwood floors and a recently renovated kitchen.

“You need a hand with the soup?” Bucky asks as Steve rummages through the cabinets in search for a cutting board and pot.

“I’m good. Just relax. I grabbed a paper at the market if you want to do the crossword.”

Bucky reaches into one of the grocery bags for the newspaper. “Okay” He answers, “But I’m going to need some help with the history. I’ve haven’t had as much time to catch up as you have.”

Steve snorts, partly in an effort to keep the mood light. “You were never any good at the history questions.”

“Maybe, but at least I can spell.” Bucky volleys.

“Just read the questions, jerk.” Steve answers in mock anger as he starts cutting potatoes into small, bite sized chunks.

Bucky huffs a small laugh and begins to turn to the leisure section when a headline about New York City's salvage bids and photo of Steve choking out a Chitari catches his eye. Bucky hold up the paper and asks, “So. Aliens?”

“Yeah.” Steve answers blandly, as if the whole ordeal wasn’t mind-blowing.

“Did old Orson Welles get it right? Or was he full of hot hair with his little _War of the Worlds_ radio prank?”

Steve immediately remembers what Bucky is referencing. It was Halloween of ’38. Just a week after he and Bucky had both finally decided that the feelings they had for each other were worth risking their friendship. They’d had so many fits and starts. What started in high school they’d chalked up to adolescent curiosity. “Practice.” They’d called it. Mostly because they were both too afraid to admit to how the larger implications of what they were doing actually meant about what they were. And when it had become clear to Bucky that Steve’s interests were more varied than his own, he’d decided he shouldn’t get in the way of any chance Steve might have at getting married and having a normal life.

That all changed when, at twenty-one, Steve contracted Rheumatic fever- a rare disease for adults to be sure and all the more serious at his age. Although Steve recovered, his heart had taken a permanent hit and his prognosis wasn’t good. “Buck,” he had said in a hoarse whisper from his hospital bed, “However much time I’ve got left, I want to spend it with you.” Bucky leaned in and pressed his forehead to Steve’s. “I’ve told you a million times, you’ve got me as long as you want me. I’m not going anywhere.” Steve had been discharged the next day. And the day following that, Bucky moved in to his apartment. For the first time, they were really truly a couple, even if they couldn’t tell anyone. Even if they had to keep up appearances that they were just two normal single fellas sharing rent, not two queers shacking up.

They’d spent that Halloween unpacking and passing out candy to the neighborhood kids while listening to Orson Welles’ radio program. _The Mercury Theater_ aired an updated broadcast of the classic HG Wells novel _War of the Worlds_. The book had been a favorite of Bucky’s. He loved all things sci-fi. Steve preferred nonfiction. But he always humored Bucky especially when it came to books. He often went along with whatever Bucky selected to read aloud as he helped nurse Steve through a bad cold. That’s why they’d been listening that night, when most people throughout the northeastern seaboard were listening the popular _Chase and Sanborn Variety Hour._ Steve and Bucky knew they were listening to fiction. But when audiences changed the dial during the musical number on the other station they’d thought they were hearing an actual news broadcast of an alien invasion. The widespread panic that the broadcast caused ended up making the front page of the _New York Times_.

Steve gestures with the kitchen knife he’s holding and answers, “Orson got it pretty right. But at least he had the good sense to attack New Jersey instead of New York.”

“Fucking, Jersey.” Bucky moans with effect. “They’re still the worst, huh?”

“You know it.” Steve reassures with laughter. 

***

They’re half way through the crossword puzzle by the time the soup is ready. “It’s potato cream like I used to make when you had double shifts on the docks. Same recipe.” Steve prepared it from scratch, despite the various canned options available at the market. He ladles a healthy portion into a bowl and brings it to Bucky. “Blow on it,” Steve warns. “It’s hot.”

Steve sits down at the kitchen table as Bucky takes a sip.

“So,” Steve asks, hopeful. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

Bucky has another spoonful before he answers gleefully, “I love it. It’s just as god awful as I remember. The only thing worse than your spelling was your cooking.”

“Asshole!” Steve exclaims, not at all hiding how happily relieved he is that Bucky seems like his old self. On instinct Steve leans in to kiss Bucky but he stops short when he sees Bucky tense up. Flustered, Steve immediately apologizes. “I’m so sorry Buck. I wasn’t thinking. It was just muscle memory. I wasn’t try to—”

Bucky shakes his head. “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just…”

Steve can tell Bucky is trying to find his words so he offers, “Out of practice?”

Bucky smiles as best he can even though his body is on alert. Touch of any sort hasn’t been something good for him in so long. What’s worse for him in this moment though, is the look of concern and guilt on Steve’s face. He has to change that. “I remember, that’s what we used to call it. But we were pretty much naturals if I recall correctly.”

Steve can read Bucky’s play. Keep it light, Steve thinks to himself. So, he answers, “You’re right. What we lacked in skill we definitely made up for in talent. Or at least you did.”

Bucky rests his metal hand on Steve’s knee— he’s wary about really touching him with his own skin. “Don’t sell yourself short, Steve. Trust me. You always knocked my socks off.”

Steve, knows he’s blushing. Embarrassed, he gestures to the bowl. “Eat your soup before it gets cold.”

***

After Steve cleans up the kitchen making sure to return every item precisely where he’d found it he joins Bucky on the sofa in the living room. They continue working on the puzzle until the day catches up with Bucky. Fatigued, he stretches out and rests his head on Steve’s lap. A storm has rolled in. The patter of rain and the way Steve gently cards his fingers through Bucky’s hair lulls him to sleep. When Steve is certain Bucky is out, he carefully moves and places a pillow under Bucky’s head on the couch. He then grabs a throw blanket from the easy chair and covers Bucky up. He doesn’t want him to wake up with a chill.

He selects the larger of the two bedrooms to go lie down. He’s not tired, but he knows he could use the rest. Steve toes off his shoes, takes off his jeans and then gets in to the bed in his T-shirt and undershorts. The room is dark. Steve closes his eyes and listens to the rain beat softly on the window. He’s somewhere half way between wake and sleep when the memory comes. Dijon. The farmhouse. Bucky and the feeling of him inside Steve.

Despite what Natasha and the others think, Steve is not a monk. Far from it. He just has trouble connecting with other people in ways that matter. Before Steve had been pressed back into service to go after Loki he’d had more than just the occasional encounter. It’s not that sex in the twenty first century was so much easier to come by, it was just more straight-forward so to speak. He found that out the first time he went to a Manhattan fitness club. The sauna had been, in a word, educational. Men also regularly slipped Steve their number. And then there was the woman who owned his old Brooklyn apartment, Bernadette. That had been a weekend Steve wouldn’t soon forget. It didn’t take long, though, for Steve to retreat back into a more solitary existence. Every time he went to bed with a person, as good as the experience may have been, Steve ended up feeling more and more lonely. Every time a person touched Steve, all he could think about was that last time with Bucky in Dijon. He had tried to get past it, to move forward and build a life for himself in the 2000s. But then New York happened, and the papers, and the twenty-four hour news cycles, and the Smithsonian. And suddenly Steve wasn’t Steve anymore. He was Captain America, again. And there aren’t as of yet, any dating apps for superheroes.

Steve’s hand finds its way down into his shorts. He’s hard. He debates going and taking care of himself in the shower, it’d be the more polite thing to do considering he’s an unwelcome guest in someone’s home. But before he can make up his mind he hears a knock at the bedroom door.

Bucky cracks the door open and asks, “Steve? You still awake?”

Steve sits up, suddenly alert. “Yeah Buck. You okay?”

“Uh huh.” Bucky answers. “It’s just. I was wondering. Can I bunk in here, with you?”

“Of course,” Steve replies as he pulls back the blanket. “Get in. The bed’s not too soft.”

Bucky climbs in next to Steve fully clothed except for his shoes. He rests on his side, facing the door, mindful that their location isn’t exactly secure. Hyper-vigilance is what Dr. Garner had called it. It’s part of his PTSD. He needs a distraction. “Can you do that thing with my hair? It helped me fall asleep before.”

Steve shifts and moves up behind Bucky. As he props himself up on a few pillows he tries to will away his erection. But the current situation isn’t helping. He starts lightly stroking Bucky’s head before brushing the shorter strands of hair off his face. After a few moments Steve takes a deep breath as he starts running his finger through his hair as he had earlier on the sofa.

“Were you sleeping?” Bucky asks.

“Drifting maybe.”

“Feels like you were having a dream.” Bucky responds. He shifts back against Steve in a slight but deliberate motion. “Feels like you were having a _good_ dream.”

“Bucky.” Steve says in a warning tone. “I’m supposed to be trying to help you get to sleep.”

Bucky turns over to face Steve. “You could help me with something else.” Bucky reaches down to unzip his fly.

Almost desperate, Steve pleads as he takes gentle hold of Bucky’s wrist to stop him from undressing. “Come on, Buck. You’re still on the mend. We shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be right for me to—”

In a tone of voice that matches Steve’s desperation Bucky cuts in, “I need to feel something other than pain and guilt. I need to feel like I’m a man, not a weapon. Or some sad, broken thing. Will you help me Steve? Please?”

Steve’s convinced, even if it is against his better judgement. He looks into Bucky’s eyes. “Okay. Bucky. I’m here. Tell me what you want.”

Bucky hadn’t really thought far enough of ahead to consider the specifics. So, he goes for what comes to mind first. “Can we just touch each other? They way we used to, when we were kids?”

“Are you sure?” Steve asks, remembering how Bucky had tensed up earlier when he’d tried to give him a simple peck on the lips.

Bucky palms Steve’s erection. “I’m sure. Now help me get out of these clothes.”

They’re both naked in no time. The blanket and sheet are chucked on the floor. Steve sucks lightly on Bucky’s collar bone as Bucky grinds himself up against Steve. They both have a hand on each other, moving slowly at first as they begin thrusting. It takes a moment for them to find an even rhythm but when they do Steve has to make an effort to hold on so it will last. “You know I love you, always have. Always will.”

Bucky reaches up to the headboard with his metal hand to give himself leverage, the wood starts to splinter under his grip. He’s chasing release, trying to focus on the sparks firing at the base of his spine. “I know Steve. I know," He answers, panting. "I’m yours.”

Bucky’s words push Steve over the edge. But he keeps working his hand up and down Bucky’s cock, encouraging him to follow. “Show me, Buck. Come for me.”

Bucky kisses Steve hard on the mouth. It’s graceless. All teeth and tongue. But it’s perfect. Bucky’s orgasm hits him fast. He’s almost startled by it. When he cries out Steve wraps his arms around Bucky and holds him tight. “I’ve got you Bucky, I’ve got you.”

Bucky’s cries don’t stop.

Steve kisses Bucky’s cheeks and forehead. “It's okay. You cry all you need to, you cry for the both of us. We’ve more than earned it.”

So, Bucky does. And Steve holds him, wishing that he had the courage to really cry too. But he’s never been as brave as Bucky. Through everything, Bucky never fully gave up. He fought through literal mind control to find his way back to Steve. That's not what Steve did. The minute he thought he’d lost Bucky he set course on a path that led him headfirst toward the bottom of the ocean. The history books call that last mission a hero’s sacrifice. But Steve knows the truth. He knows that when he put that plane in the water, he was giving up because he didn’t want to live without Bucky. He prays now that he won’t ever have to again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think? Let me know in the comments! *hugs*


	21. 21 Missing Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky tells Steve talks to about part of his past...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So part of the goal of this project is to fill some of the holes MCU has left behind. This chapter is also largely an attempt to do that. I am also trying to thread Steve/Bucky as a ship into existing MCU canon from Iron Man through CA:TWS. See if you can find how and where I attempted that. 
> 
> Of course, comments give me fuel to keep writing. I'm on spring break (perhaps an extended break b/c of the coronavirus) and I'm going to try an add a few more chapters soon. Thanks for your continued support. Let me know what you think. Also I'd love to chat with you about how the fic is going and what questions/predictions/theories you have about where I'm taking this story. *love and hugs*

CH 21 Missing Pieces

Steve falls asleep while holding Bucky, exhaustion and worry getting the best of him. He breathes heavily with a not-quite-snore as his chin rests perfectly on the crown of Bucky’s head. Their legs are intwined in a possessive tangle.

Hours pass until finally sunlight starts to peek in through the bedroom window. Bucky wakes first but he has no interest in getting up. Content, he nuzzles against Steve’s bare chest. He settles on listening to Steve’s heartbeat, so strong and sure; so unlike the thready, overworked sound it once made back when it struggled to keep Steve alive longer than the best prognosis any doctor had offered.

Steve has always been as solid as a rock and earlier tonight was no different. Bucky has never had to pretend with Steve. It hasn’t always been easy. Sometimes it’s hurt like a sonofabitch but Steve always made it so Bucky could be honest. Bucky guesses that’s what the tears were all about. Part of it was that pain in his gut. That guilt. But tonight, he hadn’t been feeling guilty about what he’d done. He’d been feeling guilty because it doesn’t seem right that he’s been given this second chance. He feels guilty because he is happy. He’s been given an entirely new century to make a life for himself with Steve. They can start over. And Steve isn’t the only part of Bucky’s second chance.

As if Steve can hear Bucky’s thoughts he wakes and plants a little kiss on Bucky’s head. He whispers sleepily, “Only good days ahead for you and me, Buck.” Admittedly, Steve may be a bit intoxicated by the feeling of having Bucky really truly back.

Steve’s words offer Bucky an opening. He needs to tell Steve about his past. Not just his time with Hydra. Not just his time as a killer, but all of it. And Steve needs to hear about it from Bucky first— he knows all too well that Steve doesn’t handle being blindsided very well. His current rift with Tony is evidence of that. Bucky takes a breath and shifts slightly in Steve’s embrace. He waits a beat to enjoy the feel of Steve’s hands on his skin and metal and then cautiously states, “It wasn’t all bad. I had so many handlers over the years. They all had their own ways of making me comply. And not all the missions were wet work. There were training ops, protection details.”

“Yeah?” Steve quietly asks. He reminds himself that Dr Garner had advised that while he shouldn’t press Bucky to talk about his captivity he should try and listen. And he needs to listen in a calm manner, despite what Bucky might share.

“They thought of me as a trophy. Some sort of feather in their cap.” Bucky begins. He silently notes that his mind is relatively quiet. The swirling timelines he’s struggled with since the after the Hellicarrier seem to be gone. “Hydra liked to show me off. Especially once they rose in the ranks within the KGB as the Soviet Union was crumbling. I think it was some time in the early 90s, my Primary tried to bluff his opponent. It didn’t turn out well for him and he lost me in a poker game.”

“A poker game?” Steve repeats, not sure that he heard correctly.

Bucky chuffs a humorless laugh. “Like I said before, for the longest time I was just a thing.”

Steve gives a Bucky a little squeeze. A silent attempt at comfort.

“Anyway, I ended up as the property of a headmistress at a dance academy— one not affiliated with Hydra as far as I could tell. She made a big show of having a won herself a bed slave. But she never laid a hand on me in that way. It turned out she was the sort of woman I used to date.”

Catching Bucky’s meaning Steve asks, “She was Lavender?”

Bucky always had a girl on his arm back in Brooklyn. He’d had an uncanny talent for scaring up the sort of girls who were too pretty to be spinsters but who didn’t have an interest in getting married. Bucky could always find girls who preferred to spend their time with other girls. They made great dates for Bucky. The perfect cover for everyone. And doubling wouldn’t have been a problem if Bucky hadn’t always found it funny, if not necessary, to let the girls in on the fact that Steve swung both ways. “Careful with him ladies. He’s shy about dancing cheek-to-cheek with ya’. Poor sap’s, afraid he might enjoy it too much,” Bucky would tease. The girls would always giggle. Some would double down and shamelessly flirt with Steve, making him feel even more awkward. But mostly, the girls would see Steve as some sort of interloper. They resented him because in their minds he was the kind of person who had options that they didn’t. Never mind the fact that he was five foot nothing and never had been one to catch the eye of any girl who was looking for a husband.

“As lavender as Marlena Dietrich in a tuxedo.” Bucky answers. But she’s not who Bucky wants to talk about. It’s the red haired six-year-old, spitfire who was the only person in decades who’d made him feel like a person. “Anyway, like I said. They called the place she ran a dance academy. But it was really a training facility for KGB assassins.”

Bucky’s description rings a bell for Steve. Though Natasha had never been exactly forthcoming about her past Steve had heard the general rundown about the work she did before she joined SHIELD. In more than a guess Steve asks, “You worked at the Red Room?”

“You’ve heard of it.” Bucky answers flatly. “I was a combat instructor. My job was to teach little girls how to be killers.” He waits and steels himself for Steve’s reply. Steve just tucks an ankle behind Bucky’s calf inching him closer. Bucky then continues. “There was one though, she got under my skin. They were rewarded with sweets and she’d smuggle gum drops in her pockets. She always gave her share to me. I never had the heart to tell her I couldn’t eat them.”

“Sounds like maybe she had a crush on you.” Steve softly suggests. He’s careful to keep his words to a minimum. He doesn’t want to sidetrack Bucky’s story.

“I don’t know about that. I think she just saw that I was as lonely as she was. Anyway, one day she showed up early outside the gymnasium before class with some more treats. I thanked her for them and she whispered, ‘thank you for teaching me how not to die.’”

Instantly, Steve puts together what Bucky has been telling him. “It was Natasha. You knew her. And she knew you.” A fire starts to burn in him. He sits up and stares blankly. All the pieces falling in to place. “She knew you were alive too. And she didn’t tell me.” 

Bucky sits up and wraps his arm around Steve in an attempt to settle him. “No. They put me back on ice within the year. And when I woke up my first mission was to cross off some Iranian engineer. She was on his detail— all grown up and working for the other side.”

Steve sloughs off Bucky’s embrace and stands up to get dressed. “She told me about that mission. Of course, she didn’t bother with the details. I swear SHIELD is all the same. One secret built on another secret.”

Bucky reaches for Steve’s elbow. His grip firm. “Listen to me. If I taught Natasha anything it was read the terrain before making a play. You all literally had the sky falling on you. The fact that she’d IDd me five years before was in no way mission-critical intel.”

“She’s had plenty of time to tell me after New York.” Steve eyes Bucky’s hand silently telling him to let go.

“And what would you have done? How would knowing I was out there as a brainwashed assassin impacted your readiness? She made the right call, Steve.” Bucky argues after releasing his grasp. He gets out of bed as well and reaches for his undershorts. “Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same if the situation were reversed.”

Steve knows Bucky is right. Morale is the most important part of unit cohesion. Natasha wouldn’t risk that, no matter what. Some may read her as cold. She might even describe herself as that. But Nat knows how to play the long game. Sentimentality isn’t her style. He takes a breath. Quietly, he admits, “She’s been trying to get me to move forward. She keeps telling me that I can’t keep one foot in the 1940s if I am ever gonna make a life for myself here.”

“And there’s no way she could have assessed the probability that some magic teenager and some bobbles from outer space could get my mind right in the event that you could even ever find me.” Bucky adds, resolved to make Steve understands that Natasha was acting in everyone’s best interest.

Steve sits back down on the edge of the bed as he concedes, “I guess you have a point.”

Bucky walks to the other side of the bed to stand in front of Steve. He holds Steve’s face, gently, in his hands. “And I have a soft spot for the both of you. So, no fighting, okay? Not with her.”

Steve looks up at Bucky, knowing when he’s beat. “Yeah. Okay,” He answers with a consolatory grimace.

Bucky nods. “Now what do I gotta do to get you to make nice with Tony?”

“Don’t press you luck, Barnes. He crossed more than few lines. I can’t just let that go.” Steve warns. He knows that some of his anger is misplaced. He’s just as upset about Peggy’s revelation that Howard chose not to greenlight a rescue attempt back in ’87 as he is about anything Tony has or hasn’t said or done. And Steve also knows that he’s going to have to put all that aside when the next world ending threat comes their way. But that day isn’t today. Today, Steve gets to put what he needs first. And that’s precisely what he intends to do.


	22. CH 22 Bombshell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve gets devastating news...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long hiatus. I'm a teacher and when we went into quarantine I pretty much used up all the screen time I could handle teaching seven classes online. School is out now so hopefully I can get back to a regular posting schedule. 
> 
> I hope all my friends/readers here are safe and well. I'm doing okay but it's getting tough living alone and being so far away from family. My friends and I do zoom happy hours and such but I miss being around people. One fun piece of news is I've convinced a Marvel newbie friend to binge the MCU with me online. We just started Agents of SHIELD. :)

CH 22

Bucky sits down at the kitchen table and places bowl of oatmeal in front of himself. He closes his eyes and focuses on the scent of cinnamon that’s sprinkled on top of the hot cereal. He remembers what Dr Garner has taught him about engaging his five senses to center himself in the present. He breathes in deeply through his nose to take in the smell—the spice almost tickles his nostrils. Next, he listens to the sounds of the faucet running and of Steve scrubbing a pot clean. Bucky smiles to himself remembering Steve’s hypervigilant tidiness, a clear byproduct of having been raised by a nurse. He’s not supposed to let his mind wander like that during this exercise, though. Grounding, is what Dr Garner had called it. It’s a supposedly useful technique for managing symptoms of PTSD and it takes practice. Staying in the present isn’t easy though, when Bucky lingers on the sight of Steve standing at the kitchen counter in his bare feet wearing only some very form fitting, navy blue briefs. Mindfulness is challenging for sure, especially when looking at an ass that’s as perfect and inviting as Steve’s. He muses that developing the skill of mindfulness is more difficult than learning to assemble a Tokarev Soviet Sniper rifle. Undaunted, Bucky moves on to his sense of taste by spooning a large bite of oatmeal into his mouth. It’s bland mostly, except for the peppery sweetness of the cinnamon. And yet, the taste is a welcome one. Oatmeal had been a staple in own his mother’s kitchen when Bucky was growing up. She’d always say, “Eat up, Bucky. It’s cold outside. The oatmeal will stick to your ribs and keep you warm all day.”

Breakfast goes down even easier for Bucky than the soup had the night before. He’s not sure, but he wonders if it’s not the fact that the container it came in is nearly identical to the old cannister that seemed to be ever present on Bucky’s mother’s kitchen counter. It’s nice to see something familiar. Even if it’s just a white-haired Quaker on the blue label for hot cereal.

Familiarity is what Bucky craves most right now. Dr Garner had told him that routine and consistency would help him find his emotional and mental footing. And for the most part, that has been true. Even before Tony gave Bucky his mind back, Bucky had worked with JARVIS to establish and keep a daily regime in his cell. Working on puzzles, catching up on news, learning the popular accounts of history and doing physical exercise, along with taking mild sedatives, had helped Bucky had keep his mind as calm as had been possible. And now that Bucky is out of containment, now that he’s back with Steve, he’s grasping for the familiar again. It’s why he’d asked to Steve to share his bed. It’s why he’d asked Steve to touch him. He thought that would be familiar. But it was a role reversal at best. Steve, soothing him. Bucky feeling so much like the weaker of the two. And other things about last night were different too.

Bucky has another spoonful of cereal then says matter-of-factly, “That thing you did with your wrist and the palm of your hand last night… That was new.”

Steve, who’s lost in his own thoughts about how best to get back to DC today, looks up from the pot he’s still diligently scrubbing. “What’s that?”

“Last night,” Bucky repeats, “You had some new moves.” He keeps his voice even- not pressing. He remembers that Steve had never been one for talking about sex. He’s always been more a man of action in that department.

“I guess a fella picks up a thing or two in ninety-six years,” Steve offers with a shrug. He set the pot aside to dry the pours himself a cup of coffee.

Bucky’s not sure he wants details but he lays out an opening for Steve nonetheless, “I liked it. Anyone in particular I should thank? The guy who played music for you at the hospital perhaps?”

“Who? Sam?” Steve chuffs a laugh as he sits down at the table. “I’m pretty sure Sam likes girls, Bucky. Nothing to worry about there. He’s just a fellow soldier, and a friend.” He crooks a smile at Bucky. Neither of them had ever been the jealous sort in their relationship before. Quite the opposite. When they’d both stopped ignoring the real feelings they’d had for each other Steve and Bucky had made the decision to be monogamous. But that didn’t stop them from recounting the several sexual encounters they’d each had with men in the years after high school before they’d become a couple. Telling each other about their former exploits had even been a form of for them foreplay at times. Steve wonders if that is what Bucky is playing at now. But what Bucky says next reminds Steve that as strong as their relationship had been, there was one aspect that was always delicate, fragile even.

“You like girls too, Steve.” Bucky hedges. It’s not quite a dare. He honestly doesn’t care who Steve has had sex with. But he can’t and won’t stand in the way of Steve finding an easier road. If not with a woman, then perhaps a decorated soldier without a stack of innocent bodies in his wake.

Steve leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “Are we really going to have this conversation again? It got old back in ’41.”

Bucky stands up from the table and takes is bowl and mug to the sink. Without looking in Steve’s direction he quietly reminds, “You’ve got options. That’s all I’m saying.”

“You’re right. I’ve got options.” Steve begins. He gets up and walks deliberately toward Bucky. Standing behind him, he rests his hand in the small of Bucky’s back. Then, in a low, throaty tone Steve continues, “And yeah, I have more of a basis of comparison now. But being attracted to both men and women isn’t a choice for me. It never was. What I do know is that we both chose to spend our lives together. And now that we have a second chance,” Steve leans forward and whispers in Bucky’s ear, “I still choose you. Always have, always will.” 

Bucky resists giving in to the urge to just end the conversation by just turning and kissing Steve in reply. That would be familiar— a diversionary tactic. But Dr. Garner has taught Bucky he can’t heal by avoiding his feelings. He has to acknowledge them and work through them.

Bucky searches for the right thing to say in reply to Steve’s affirmation. But before he finds the words he hears the sound of an approaching motor engine. Immediately, he’s at the backdoor window. He sighs, and gently but with volume says, “Your friends are here, Steve.”

Steve feels a lurch of anger within him- upset that this moment of intimacy between them has been interrupted. “I’ll take care of it,” he says before padding to the front door while still wearing only his underwear.

Bucky stays put. He cant make out most of the exchange between Steve, Romanoff, and Wilson. All he catches is Sam saying, “She went in her sleep. We came to find you because Sharon didn’t want you to get the news in a text message. We’re both real sorry, man. Everyone is.”

A moment later Steve walks back toward the bedroom. As he passes the kitchen Steve quietly tells Bucky, “Tell them I need a minute.” And then he heads into the bedroom and shuts the door behind himself.

Bucky knows all too well how Steve is when he’s grieving. So, he foregoes going to get his own clothes before he steels himself and walks to the front door. He questions implications of also being in his underwear but reckons that it’s never been uncommon for soldiers to hangout in their skivvies while relaxing in the barracks. Why should their current state of undress be suspect?

He warily approaches Sam and Natasha and flatly states, “He’s getting his stuff.” Then, at a loss for anything better to say Bucky offers, “I’m sorry for shooting you.

Natasha’s lips curl into almost a smile. “which time?”

Natasha’s question and the wry expression on her face stops Bucky short. He may have his mind back but the brain damage, mild though it may be, persists. He’ll have to relearn the nuances of nonverbal communication. Before Bucky can think of a way to respond Natasha continues, this time in Russian. “Do you even recognize me, James?”

Bucky replies, also in Russian, “Of course, little one. But, I miss your braids. All grown up I see.” He notes the wave of welcome familiarity he feels.

“It happens.” Natasha shrugs in English.

“Wanna fill me in?” Sam asks. “Or do I not have clearance because I’m the new guy?” Clearly irritated that they’re speaking in a foreign language.

Bucky turns to him. Deadpan, he answers, “I told her I was also sorry for breaking your bird costume.”

Natasha barks out a short quick laugh. A rarity for her.

“Really, Nat?” Sam asks, in an offended tone. Though, he’s not actually angry, maybe just a little hurt. “You’re laughing? And after all we’ve been through?”

Before Natasha can respond Steve walks back in, this time fully dressed. “We were here uninvited. There’s finger prints. DNA. Other evidence.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Natasha assures. “Coulson has his crew coming in on a cleanup detail.”

“We should get you to DC.” Sam adds. “It’s going to be a long few days.” 

Flatly, Steve replies. “I guess there’s no point in asking how you found us.”

“Facial recognition algorithm clocked you on the market security camera yesterday afternoon. Tony’s Veronica satellite tracked you from there.” Natasha explains, knowing her answer isn’t going to do anything positive for Steve’s mood.

Steve shakes his head. “And here I thought things like the right to privacy mattered in this world. Guess not.”

Bucky gives Steve a mild shoulder check and softly says, “I’m gonna get dressed. Then we should go.”

***


	23. CH 23 Fuel to the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...In which Tony has to deal with Thaddeus Ross

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in this fic I'm casting General Ross (who later becomes Secretary Ross in Civil War) as a Senator. My head canon is that he won a special election after Senator Stern was arrested at the end of Winter Soldier. 
> 
> Hope you're all hanging in there! Thanks for the comments. *hugs* Oh and BTW if you have a rec for any Stucky fics that you love that are close to canon and also angsty and sexy I'd appreciate you sending titles my way. I'm behind on reading. Need to catch up with fandom.

CH 23

Tony is no fan of managerial tasks. He never has been. He avoids it whenever possible. It’s one of the many reasons why he handed the reins of Stark Industries over to Pepper. It gives him time to roll up his sleeves and get in the thick of things. After all, why be the coach when you can be the wide receiver? No coach gets to dance in the endzone. But sometimes being Earth’s Best Defender includes doing some old fashion horse trading. And if anyone’s asking, Tony is one hell of a horse trader. It’s how he’d managed to wrangle both immunity for and custody of the Maximoff twins. It’s how he’d managed to keep The Avengers free from any global regulatory oversite— at least for now.

The fact that Tony had once been the world’s preeminent defense contractor had helped. The connections and leverage he’d acquired in both the pubic and private sectors put him in an envied bargaining position. Other tech and weapons conglomerates were happy to fill the void Stark Industries left in the market when Pepper took the company into the clean energy game. It’s why executives at HAMMER and even Pym Technologies advocated for The Avengers to have self-governed jurisdiction over off-world and extinction level threats. Of course, that was on the condition that Tony’s gang would leave international conflicts and street level crimes to the purview of the military and law enforcement. Unfortunately, the dividing line between The Avengers and government isn’t always clear. There’s an unquestionable gray area. That gray area has led to Tony having to take a series of phone calls on the morning he should be heading to DC for Aunt Peg’s funeral.

The latest call is with the newly elected US Senator Thaddeus Ross. Tony swipes open the holo-screen and with a nod he begins. “I gotta say, Thunderbolt. It’s unsettling seeing you out of uniform.”

Ross smirks at the mention of the nickname he'd earned as a no-holds-barred Army commander, “That’s funny I was just thinking it’s a refreshing change to see you out of the tin can you’re usually in.”

“Aw. You’re making me blush, Senator.” Tony volleys. “But I’m sure you didn’t call so we could talk about our wardrobe choices.” Tony is trying to play nice. He doesn’t like Ross. Not one bit. But he’s not Hydra. So… the enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that.

Ross, is admittedly focused on not being so hot-headed and adversarial. He’s gotta keep his blood pressure under control. Doctor’s orders. And for better or worse, Tony Stark is an ally. “Well, maybe when we’re done here you can text me the name of your tailor. I’m still getting used to wearing civies.”

“Done. Just know that I’m the process of trademarking my pinstripes. So. hands off.”

“Noted. So look. I’ll be quick. You might have heard I’ve been appointed to the Senate Intelligence committee.”

Tony almost bites a hole in his tongue to avoid quipping about the oxymoron _senate intelligence_ He’s able to muster a simple, “Congrats."

“Yes. Well thank you.” Ross continues. “And I’m sure you know that we still don’t have a solid assessment on the degree to which Hydra infiltrated various black sites. It’s making the recapture and detention of undesirables all the more challenging these days.”

Tony can tell Ross is building up to something. He waits for Ross to show his cards. Best not to play his own hand before it’s necessary. “Uh. Huh. Trash collecting is a bitch. I get that.”

“Right!” Ross agrees. His enthusiasm is a clear tell. “And while god knows just about every agency out there could use all the help they can get, incarceration really isn’t something The Avengers need to worry about.” Now it’s Ross’s turn to wait.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._ Tony relies on the best tool he has— flippant snark. He needs to know what Ross knows before he says anything. “Last I checked, none of us are jail wardens. You heard something different?”

Ross takes a deep breath. The fact that he’s angry that Tony hasn’t come clean is all over his face when he says, “We’ve got some pretty reliable intel that you’ve been detaining a Hydra asset who’s been at large since Captain Rogers crashed three Helicarriers in the Potomac.”

“Is any intel reliable anymore?” Tony asks. An evading tactic. Admittedly, a weak one. He tries to put some weight behind the question. “Last I heard, the global government, military and intelligence communities had Hydra infiltration rates at an estimated twenty percent. And at the highest level across the board.” Tony isn’t exaggerating. Hydra was literally everywhere. And it’s only been six months since Cap exposed them. Tony would bet his billions that they’ve only seen the first wave of sleepers coming out of the shadows.

“Yes. We’ve been compromised. Everyone has been. And I’ll be the first to admit that even my best boys in uniform wouldn’t have been able to round up all the enhanced scum that The Avengers have been able to capture when Hydra set them free. And quite frankly I’m more than happy to have your team collect the 0-8-4s that are in play.”

Tony has an in. “Despite what your intel says. That’s all we’ve been doing. Collecting 0-8-4-s.” He’s not lying. Zero Eight Four is an old Strategic Scientific Reserve designation. For example, anything or anyone impacted by the tesseract would have been numbered as such. So, yeah. Not a lie. Not technically. “And we’ve been following the rules by handing all the black site escapees we’ve found over to Coulson and his Campfire Girls.”

Ross's patience has reached its limit. “Cut the crap, Stark. I know you have Barnes. You’re not the only one with surveillance satellites. And we have enough concrete, visual evidence to prove he’s a traitor to his country who needs to be dealt with accordingly. That’s my jurisdiction. Not yours.”

“I am being 100% honest with you when I say that I do not have Barnes.” The Sergeant currently in route to DC with Steve. Okay, so he’s splitting hairs here but still. “But if I did, I would tell you he is a POW who has more than paid for any crime anyone may accuse him of.”

Ross is about to reply when Tony continues. “And if you and your government cronies are looking to throw the book at him, you’ll have a me, a super solider, a god, a hulk, two preternatural spies and a few new friends all standing in your way.”

“You’re making a big mistake, Tony.” Ross warns. His temper boiling under his skin.

“No, I’m not. The jurisdiction is clear. If, hypothetically, I knew anything about Barnes I'd tell you that we didn't capture him. He surrendered to my custody because The Avengers is the only organization that didn't have a Hydra mole and it's all the Sergeant could do to escape their hold on him. Or I might just say that it was the tesseract that made it possible for him to live this long. And that it was tesseract-powered, Hydra tech that turned him inside out. The cube is Asgardian. And anything or anyone under Asgardian sway is, without question, Avengers’ business. But like I said. I don’t have Barnes. So it’s moot point, really.”

“Have it your way,” Ross seethes. “Just so you know there are warrants out for him from about thirty different national governments. It’s in everyone’s best interest if he turns himself in to US custody. We don’t have a federal death penalty anymore. You might want to remind Rogers of that unless you want to see him have to bury another one of his friends.”


	24. CH 24 Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...In which Bucky has to figure out what to do.

CH 24

Bucky doesn’t like the chair he’s sitting in. The back is too low and the seat is too narrow. After futilely trying to situate himself he decides he should chalk it up to progress that he’s even irritated with his own discomfort. For decades mere discomfort would have been a welcome gift— a small reprieve from the otherwise endless torture he endured. Maybe he’ll bring this thought up to Dr Garner, but not today. Today, they have too much to cover and Bucky needs his help.

As Bucky waits to be called in to for his appointment he plays the past few days over in his mind. It’s hard to believe that its been just over seventy-two hours since Stark deprogrammed him—since Bucky has had his mind back. He’d had less than a full day and night with Steve before they received the news of Agent Carter’s death. It pains Bucky to admit it but this is precisely the type of familiarity he had hoped for. Seeing Steve suffer—to see Steve silently, stoically grieve is something Bucky remembers. It’s what he’s used to. It’s what had given Bucky purpose. It’s what had made him first feel like a man. He had been Steve’s protector since they were boys. He’d been his stalwart rock when Steve lost his mother. And when Steve had been facing his own mortality Bucky once again promised to never leave his side. It had defined and solidified their relationship. The serum hadn’t changed that.

By all accounts of the war, Steve had become indestructible. Yet it had been Bucky who’d been there to provide cover, to watch his six and pull Steve back from the edge when his earnestness veered in to recklessness. Now that they’ve found each other again, this is still Bucky’s job. He remembers what Steve had told him about the serum and how it amplified all aspects of who he was, not just his body but his character. Since their playground days Steve had always spoken his mind—so much so that it had often resulted in his getting a fat lip or a black eye or sometimes much worse. It was why Bucky had to be so careful once they were in battle together. He’d had to remain vigilant. He’d had to manage even the most mundane interactions with Steve. If he ever even gave Steve the opportunity to look his way without distraction their secret would have been out. To say Steve wore his heart on his sleeve is to put it all too mildly. Steve’s love and desire for Bucky had always been written all over his face. Steve’s new body could withstand almost anything. But his reputation? No. That’s as fragile as ever.

They’d arrived in DC two day ago. On the drive down from New York Bucky sat with Steve in the back seat of the SHIELD SUV. Everyone in the vehicle was silent. What could Natasha and Wilson say beyond offering their condolences? Bucky could tell that they knew Steve well enough to give him the space he needed to grieve privately. Even if they were all stuck on a three-hour car ride together. But Bucky knew more than they did. He remembered what Steve had told him all those years ago on the fifth anniversary of Mrs Rogers’ death. “When it happened, I had to go to the cemetery by myself. I didn’t have it in me to hide how much I needed you. And that was way before we’d even really even admitted it to each other."

Bucky could feel that need pouring off of Steve as they sat next to each other. He wanted to pull Steve’s head into his lap and comfort him. But it’s not something they could do. Not even in front of Steve’s friends.

After they’d dropped Natasha off at her place Wilson brought Steve and Bucky to his apartment. “My place is kind of small but you guys can have my room if you don’t mind bunking together,” Wilson offered.

Bucky caught Steve’s expression— his _whataya say?_ eyebrows raised. But Bucky shook head. “No need. I’m fine on the floor. Steve can take the couch.” He added, “thanks though,” as an afterthought.

Later that night when they were alone in the living room Bucky asked in a whisper, “Did you tell him about us?”

Apparently lost in his own grief Steve answered, “I only ever talked about it with Peg... She’s the only person besides you who knew the real me. The me without the suit. My friends now? They all grew up with the comics and history lessons and action figures.”  
  


“From where I sit, they care for you an awful damn lot. They’ve all been helping me because they love you. That’s not nothing.” Bucky offers. He wont risk sitting up on the couch to hold Steve as much as he wants to.

“No. I know. It’s just keeping part of who I am private is really starting to feel like a lie. I overheard Sam refer to Peggy as the love of my life when he was talking to Natasha. People are going to be saying that sort of thing the whole weekend…” Steve stopped short, not finishing his thought.

“You did love her though, Steve. That’s not a lie.” Bucky gently reminded. He pushed his own seed of jealousy aside and continued, “And she loved you. Why else would her family have asked you to be a pallbearer?”

“It’s a state funeral, Buck. The White House is planning the whole thing. She’s first woman and first naturalized citizen to lie in state. It’ll be a great photo-op for President Ellis with the election coming up. I got an earful from Sharon about it on the phone this morning. She thinks Fury has a hand in it too. PR for this new SHIELD they’re rebuilding. I just wanna bring her some flowers and say goodbye. Instead it’s going to be another show where I have to play Captain America for the cameras.” Steve then sat up. He was clearly getting agitated. “And look I know I have a part to play. I have to be the symbol. She was part of Project Rebirth. And I’m the literal representation of that. I want to honor her accomplishments. But behind the scenes I just want to mourn honestly. I just want to be Steve. That’d be easier to do with you by my side.”

Bucky knew what Steve wasn't saying. Steve wanted to tell his friends about their relationship. Steve wanted to tell his friends that he was the love of his life. But it’s so much more complicated than Steve can or will even try to admit. The most Bucky could say was, “You know I’d be there if it was at all possible. And I get that it’s different now, but like I said before it’s not about what we are, it’s about what I’ve done.”

“I’m just tired of all the secrets, Buck. And I’m tired of holding the shield. I’m tired of all of it.” 

***

Bucky and Dr Garner go through the opening protocol of their sessions together. It’s the first time they’re meeting face to face rather than over a holoscreen. It's convenient coincidence that the doctor’s office is in DC Bucky reasons. He’ll stay with Dr Garner until the funeral is over and Steve can come collect him.

As is typical, Dr Garner waits for Bucky to start their conversation. But Bucky has so much he wants to talk about he’s having trouble grasping on to where he should begin. He knows it makes much more sense to talk about the fact that he’s not under Hydra’s sway anymore. It has only been a few days after all. That scratching is gone. But it seems to have been replaced with an aching need to do right by Steve. So, he takes a deep breath and blurts out, “I’m a homosexual. Is that what they still call it?”

Unfazed by Bucky’s declaration Dr Garner replies, “It’s a somewhat dated clinical term. Most adult men who experience exclusive same-sex desire prefer the term gay. Is your sexual orientation what you would like to talk about today?”

With a small nervous chuckle Bucky answers, “That’s right. I read about that when I was catching up at the Tower. No blue tickets anymore.” He adds, more to himself than the doctor, “Gays in the military. That goes for officers too? Other government positions?”

Dr Garner nods an affirmation.

“Doc, is every thing we say here confidential? Even if it’s about someone else, not just me?”

“It’s complex, given your circumstances but as long as no one is in eminent danger I can offer my word that our session will remain confidential.” Doctor Garner sets down his pen and note pad to emphasize his remarks.

Hedging, Bucky decides to simply say, “I’ve got a lot to answer for and it’s going to happen sooner or later. I don’t want my actions to impact what people think about my lover.”

“And why is this something that concerns you at this particular moment?” Dr Garner asks. Though it’s easy enough to put together the pieces, he’s careful not to lead Bucky or make assumptions. It’s important for Bucky to make his own statements without the doctor filling in the gaps.

  
“Because he’s in pain and needs me with him right now, and not as _just a friend_.”

The doctor doesn’t answer. Instead he lets the silence of the room urge Bucky to continue.

“I don’t care if his friends know we fuck.” Bucky answers with unintended bite. “I don’t think they’d care either. It just…”

“Just what?”

Finally, after nearly a century Bucky says out loud what he’s been most of afraid of admitting. It’s been his biggest fear, long before Hydra turned him into a monster. “I’m not good enough for him. I never have been. Nothing I could do, even in this century, will change that.”

“But he loves you?” Doctor Garner asks. His tone is pointed. A message in itself.

Bucky shrugs. “I never said he was smart.”

Doctor Garner crosses his arms over his chest. “For argument’s sake lets say you love each other.”

“Yeah. We do. We always have.”

“Then, what do you think is the right thing to do?”

"I've got to protect him." 


	25. CH 25 Goodbye and Hello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...In which the Avengers come together to lay Peggy Carter to rest and Bucky makes an appearance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peggy married Daniel Sousa from Agent Carter. Fight me, Russo brothers

CH 25 Goodbye and Hello

Steve takes a deep breath before discretely trying to cough away the lump in his throat. The cathedral is packed with world dignitaries, captains of industry and media outlets representing the entire political spectrum. Thankfully, Steve has a seat alongside Peggy’s grandsons and the rest of the Carter-Sousa family. And while the funeral isn’t quite the circus Steve had worried it would be, it is far from a simple send off.

Despite Sharon and her cousins’ best efforts at laying Peggy to rest in a manner she would have preferred the whole ordeal had become a full-on propaganda effort to support SHIELD’s comeback. And that included a highly visible show of alliance between SHIELD and the Avengers. Both Sam and Rhodey, along with two of Coulson’s female recruits, had served as the Guard of Honor while Peggy lied in state in the capitol rotunda. And Tony’s Iron Legion had provided security for the last couple days—though he was no where to be seen, himself. Maybe that’s for the best Steve thinks. No need to bring their drama here— it’s not the time or place. Still, Tony has been a friend ever since New York. And their rift admittedly weighs heavy on Steve.

As he stares up at Peggy’s coffin on the alter Steve replays all the loss he’s experienced in his life. The irony that so much of his youth had been spent fighting off his own mortality is hard pill for Steve to swallow. He’s outlived nearly everyone he’s ever cared for before the ice and it’s more than probable that the serum will keep him alive just long enough to bury those in his life who are still alive. _Don’t be so dramatic_ Steve remembers both Peggy and Bucky telling him. They’re the only two people beside Steve’s mother who have ever truly known him. Steve’s mind can’t help but wander to one of the stolen moments he and Peggy had shared during the war.

The bedsheets were softer than anything Steve had ever felt in his life. He and Peggy had managed to secure forty-eight hours of R&R and she’d arranged for them to sneak off to her uncle’s country estate. They didn’t dare stay at the main house, as it served as a place of refuge for English children from throughout the region. Rather, they had tucked themselves away in a small cottage in the southern end of the property.

Steve felt a pang of guilt as he silently noted the comparisons between Peggy and Bucky. Their raven hair, their mischievous smiles and hands that revealed the hard work their otherwise polished appearances belied. He shouldn’t have been thinking about Bucky while lying next to Peg. They were not quite sleeping so Steve focused his attention on her. “When was the first time?” He asked.

Peggy curled into Steve’s side and nuzzled her forehead against his shoulder. “The first time, what?”

“The first time I caught your eye?” Steve sheepishly asked. “Was it after um, this?” Steve gestured to his torso.

Peggy raked her hand down Steve’s abdomen, following his gaze. “You didn’t need any of this to turn my head your way, Captain. Erskine’s file on you, alone, caught my fancy. Muscle men have never made me swoon. Men of character and substance, however…” She peppered kisses on Steve’s arm to finish her assertion. “What about you? Was it that red dress of mine that did the trick? Should I send a thank you note to my seamstress?”

Steve huffed a laugh. “That dress did a number on everyone in the pub that night to be sure. But no. I guess I just couldn’t get the way you slugged Hodge that first day at Camp Lehigh outta my head.” He started to tickle Peggy’s underarm. “Anyone with a right hook like yours would get my attention.”

She squealed and rolled on top of Steve. He let her pin his arms back. “That’s important intel. Seems I all I have to do is step in to the ring to put wind in your sails?”

Steve rolled her over and pinned Peggy underneath himself in response. “Not even that, Pegs. You know I got all my experience in back alley brawls.”

In an inexplicable counter move Peggy managed to slip out from under Steve and hopped astride his back. “I see. If that’s the case, then what might I have to do to get you to cry uncle?”

Steve rolled back over while still underneath her. With a smirk he replied, “You tell me. You’re the one in the driver’s seat.”

It isn’t the sex Steve’s thinking about at this moment. It’s how comfortable he always felt when he was with Peggy. It’s the knowledge that she fell for him _before_ the serum. She’d never wanted anything from him other than for him to be himself. And in the end, she’d made sure to let Steve know that she really knew him—even the parts of himself that he hadn’t been able to share with anyone else in his life other than Bucky.

The last time Steve and Peggy spoke she’d told him she wanted Steve to have his second chance at life—at a life with Bucky. But if that means having to keep it a secret… Steve just doesn’t know if he can do that anymore.

***

The post-funeral reception offers a more intimate, low key opportunity for Peggy’s family, friends and former colleagues to gather in remembrance. Coulson’s team and the Avengers are all in attendance as well. Even Tony who had, at some point, slipped in to the service late. Steve’s grateful that Thor arrived with a couple flasks full of Asgardian spirits. “Captain, shall we raise a glass to your fallen paramour? I’m told she’s worthy of a warrior’s welcome to Vahalla.” 

Steve lets Thor fill his cup then he takes a full swig of the potent liquor. “Thank you. She was one of the strongest women I’ve ever known.” Steve eyes the room to acknowledge Natasha with a nod as well but she isn’t present. Perhaps she’s stepped out to catch some air, he reasons.

Steve’s not used to the feeling of being buzzed and he briefly drifts out of the moment only to return to catch the tail end of Peggy’s grandson’s story…

“…so I run in to the house to show Nan the Howling Commandos comic I bought on eBay. And she stops me short and says, Michael, that is rubbish. I never in my entire life have donned a beret. I’ll have you know all respectable English women wore fedoras! Your cartoons and that ghastly old radio program can call me Nurse Better Carver all day long but I will not abide a disparagement of my headwear!”

The room erupts in much needed laughter when Skye, one of Coulson’s team asks, “Didn’t she care that they didn’t get her name right? I mean, I only ever heard about her when I started training with SHIELD. She was never in the history books whenever we had a unit on Captain America in school.”

“She knew her value.” Bucky answers from the doorway, flanked by Natasha and Dr Garner. “Other people’s opinion of her didn’t matter. That’s what she told us whenever the newsreels only referred to her as ‘Cap’s sweetheart’. Or left her out of the Howlies’ footage entirely. Isn’t that right, Steve?”

Stunned, Steve answered, “that’s right.” In a flash he crosses the room to silently thank Bucky for coming. It’s a risk. He knows. But right now, Steve doesn’t care.

“Aren’tcha gonna introduce me to your friends?” Bucky asks with his lips quirked up into a half-smile.

“Um, yeah. Of course.” Steve responds. He turns to his friends all of whom are staring earnestly back at him. The air in the room is thick. _How do I explain Bucky’s presence without lying or leaving out the truth of it all at the very least? _ Steve wonders. Diving in, he says, “Everybody, this is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. He’s… We’re…”

Steve is floundering in a rare loss for words. So, Bucky steps forward to make the save. He takes Steve’s hand in his own, lifts his head to face Steve’s found-family and finishes the statement, “…We’re each other’s.”

***

The long and surprisingly lively day of remembrance is winding down. And Steve is still in a bit of shock that Bucky’s declaration had turned out to be a seemingly, mundane non-event. His friends had made their hellos while the Carters and Sousas engaged Bucky with a flurry of questions about their matriarch’s role in the Howling Commandos.

The Avengers each offer Steve well wishes in their own way. Rhodey grousing that he owes Barton twenty bucks, Bruce shaking Steve’s hand while assuring him that Dr Garner is a great resource for Bucky, Sam silently squeezing Steve’s shoulder while giving him an approving nod. And Nat moping that she’d been pulling from the wrong pool when she’d tried to set Steve up on dates. “No, Nat.” Steve corrects, “To set the record straight, so to speak, I swim in both pools.” 

It’s Tony who makes his way across the room to Steve last – and not until close to the end of the evening. He nervously claps his hands together and says, “So, I uh, just bought an entire lumber yard worth of olive branches. I’m still workshopping the best way to extend them. Any ideas?”

Steve’s shrugs, “It’s a day to remember that friends are in short supply, Tony. How about we start there?”

Tony offers his hand. “Done. And maybe I could reverse engineer Thor’s top-shelf hooch for ya,’ too?”

“I wouldn’t turn that down,” Steve shakes Tony's hand and laughs despite himself. He, then somberly replies, “But there’s a lot we still need to get figured out before I can think about going back on duty. What SHIELD’s doing? Their protocol? From my vantage point it looks to not be far from the way Hydra took care of things… And I have Bucky to consider now too.”

“I get it and we’ll need to get him to a secure location soon. Natasha was able to bring him here to the hotel but he’ll be safer at the Tower.”

Alarmed, Steve asks. “Safer?”

Tony fiddles with his wrist watch, restless with anxious energy. “It’s just a matter of time before they come for him, Cap. But I’m ready for the fight. My family owes it to Sergeant Barnes. Sins of the father and all that…”

Steve tries to process Tony’s words. His mind comes up short with any sort of strategy. Worry fills his every pore. Resigned, Steve asks, “What’s your play?”

Tony rests his hand on Steve’s shoulder to steady him, “Like I said. Our first move is to get him to the Tower. Then, we’ll all need to prepare to gear up.”


End file.
